FINAL INSPECTION is a poem offered in remembrance to the soldiers who didn’t make it home from the service. As we celebrate the lives of those who served, let us remember the fallen as well.

The Final Inspection

The soldier stood and faced God, / Which must always come to pass. / He hoped his shoes were shining, / Just as brightly as his brass.

Step forward now, you soldier, / How shall I deal with you? / Have you always turned the other cheek? / To my Church have you been true?

The soldier squared his shoulders and said, / No Lord, I guess I ain’t. / Because those of us who carry guns, / Can’t always be a saint.

I’ve had to work most Sundays, / At times my talk was tough. / And sometimes I’ve been violent, / Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny, / That wasn’t mine to keep. / Though I worked overtime, / When the bills just got too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help, / Though at times I shook with fear. / And sometimes, God, / forgive me, / I’ve wept unmanly tears.

I know I don’t deserve a place, / Among the people here. / They never wanted me around, /

Except to calm their fears.

If you’ve a place for me here, Lord, / It needn’t be so grand. / I never expected or had too much, / But if you don’t I’ll understand.

There was a silence all around the throne, / Where the saints had often trod. / As the soldier waited quietly, / For the judgment of his God.

Step forward now, you soldier, / You’ve borne your burdens well. / Walk peacefully on Heaven’s streets, / You’ve done your time in Hell.