The Unknown Soldier

The Unknown Soldier

By Swen Nater

 

I cry when pompous orators,

Omit me when they teach,

And thereby steal the credit,

For the freedom of their speech.

 

I cry when cunning lawyers,

Make their case, and all the while,

Forget that I’m responsible,

For a fair and speedy trial.

 

I cry when news reporters,

Don’t reserve in their address,

One word to give me tribute,

For the freedom of the press.

 

And politicians make me weep,

In speeches that they wrote,

When they don’t mention, my shed blood,

Preserved the right to vote.

 

I am the Unknown Soldier,

Unknown for what I’ve won.

Buried in the ground am I,

And all that I have done.