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.
