As the cold wind beat his weathered
face,
The soldier searched for a familiar face.
Wounded in battle and left to die,
Lost in the sound of the battle cry.
Unconscious and still, they mistook him for dead.
Just one more of the many that bled.
When he opened his eyes his head throbbed with pain,
As blood oozed from his wound, the soldier felt faint.
He slowly rose and began to walk on,
Hoping to find where his comrades had gone.
For what seemed like hours he hiked through the mud,
And steadily his uniform became soaked with blood.
Sorrow filled and warty, the soldier stopped to rest.
His breathing came hard and heaved his chest.
What's the use, he cried in despair.
If I should die now who would care.
Then something caught his eye as he sat on the ground.
His eyes couldn't believe what he had found.
Among the briers, thorns, and snags
Laid three stars and a strip, a piece of the old flag.
Hope filled the soldiers heart and he gave thanks to the Lord,
For He suddenly remembered what he was fighting for.
So he got up again, though it took all of his might,
And he walked until his camp was in sight.
Though he almost gave up, he had fought for his life.
The wounded soldier was safe because of three stars and a stripe.
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