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 Posted: Sat Sep 27th, 2008 02:29 am
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Dixie Girl
Southern Belle


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Come join me my sisters,
My family too.
Come join me to see,
What bloodshed'll do.
T'was fighting,
T'was killing,
T'was people at war.
It hurt and it fought,
It hurt and it tore.
A family of Brothers,
Who walked out the..
Door...................

On the bloodied battle ground
The wounded screamed and cried
They rest amongst their fellow friends
That have already died
One of these wounded boys
Sat up, clinging to life
He was our mortal enemy
The reason of this strife
With all of my compassion
I went over to this boy
I knelt there down beside him
This wounded dying boy

His young face all blackened
From the silt of gun fire
And his young face
Was covered in uniform attire
His words were mournfully spoken
Yet as clear as day
He spoke to me his last words
In the battle's disarray
As I held him crying
This innocent young boy
I was the last one he saw
This wounded dying boy

"Oh dear heavenly Father
Have great mercy upon me
Please help my darling children
Live all their life with glee
I have sacrificed my life
With only them in mind
In hopes that their future
Will be really kind"
I listened to the prayer
Of the young and dying boy
I wished to see the face of
This wounded dying boy

"Dear mother" said the dying boy
"Forgive me of this sin
I was only doing this
For my flesh, my blood, my kin
Receive me into Heaven
For I have done my part
For this cursed lost cause
I took one in the heart"
And I listened still
To this young and dying boy
To the sad and mournful words of
The wounded dying boy

"And forgive my brother
For what he has done
I know that it was h im
That he shot me with his gun
And help him know that I won't
Carry this unto my grave
For any man to do this
He have to be brave"
These last words shocked me
Of the close to dying boy
The words rang over of
The wounded dying boy

As his breath escaped him
I knew that he was done
I reached there beside him
And threw away his gun
I then pulled him back
To the safety of the lines
To the mournful sounds of
The wounded soldiers whines
It then dawned upon me
I had not looked upon this boy
Whose last words I had just heard
The cold and dead young boy

But I had a message
To give unto his kin
So they'd forgive themselves
Of this morbid sin
I asked around my regiment
"Could this be your brother
The one you killed today
Or does he belong to another?"
 Curiosity took me over
I looked down upon this boy
Of the dead reposing from
Of the silent dead young boy

I then uncovered his face
And much to my surprise
I found myself gazing into
Very familiar eyes
Then I sat there shocked
The face was none other
Then the poor sweet innocent face
Of my little brother
I then cried and held him tight
He was just a boy
I had heard the last words
Of my cold dead brother boy

What horrors have been brought
By this wretched war?
What could we possibly get
From all this blood and gore?
I then was filled with regret
My heart filled with such remorse
Oh why this poor young boy?
My conscience then felt course
I hunched over him crying
This cold and dead young boy
He was my only brother
This victimized young boy

I then spent the night
Crying out my eyes
Thinking of my brother still
And his dying cries
How many homes are broken?
How many eyes have cried
As they held their brother
While he screamed and died?
How many other men
Will see their dying boy?
How many older brothers
Will bury their brother boy?



____________________
War Means Fighting And Fighting Means Killing - N. B. Forrest When war does come, my advice is to draw the sword and throw away the scabbard." Stonewall Jackson


 Posted: Sat Sep 27th, 2008 04:49 am
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ole
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A very nice poem, Dixie Girl. A very fine start. One of these days (we should live so long), many of us will be saying, "I ran across her when she was just a kid." You have the makings, don't lose them.

ole



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 Posted: Sun Sep 28th, 2008 01:09 am
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Crazy Delawares
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If you wrote that, DG, I AM impressed. That's the kind of thinking I'd like to see in my classrooms! Very good.



 Posted: Sun Sep 28th, 2008 12:48 pm
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Dixie Girl
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yet, i wrote it. i write a lot of poems, stories and even a song or two. im so glad y'all like it, i was kinda afraid nobody would



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War Means Fighting And Fighting Means Killing - N. B. Forrest When war does come, my advice is to draw the sword and throw away the scabbard." Stonewall Jackson


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 Posted: Mon Sep 29th, 2008 10:04 am
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Dixie Girl
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Falling on my knees.
Blood gushing from my tender spleens.
I lost the battle of my life.
Living like a violent knife.
I thought I had power.
But the only power I had was in a hour.
The honor I gave away.
Was nothing like a pain to stay away.
Having pride.
That you could only divide.
Had nothing to do with my mind.
But something I should of hide.
I let my people down.
Falling hard to the ground.
Seeing nothing but my only blood.
The blood that flooded the mud.
What a shame dieing like this.
There was nothing to prevent this.
But all I see is people dieing.
Right in front of my eyes, I thought they were flying.
I was the solider of the Civil War.
But all I wanted was more.
More than freedom, More than fate.
But all I see is hate.
Its something you had to see.
Something more than me.
Is the battle of the Civil War.



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War Means Fighting And Fighting Means Killing - N. B. Forrest When war does come, my advice is to draw the sword and throw away the scabbard." Stonewall Jackson


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 Posted: Tue Sep 30th, 2008 12:24 am
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Dixie Girl
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Beloved Soldier
It was a sad day when that letter came,
After that nothing would be the same.
He held on to his wife and told her good-bye.
He didn't know if he would come home or if he would die.
His wife was crying for him,
Saying her love would never dim.
He promised her he would come back,
But confidence in his voice was at a lack.
She wanted to believe him, really she had tried.
But then she heard the news saying he had died.
She was told of his great deeds
Of him trying to get home to who he really needs.
He saved many lives, but he lost his own.
Died on the battlefield; he was not alone.
Dead bodies of soldiers were scattered all around.
Blood and bullets covered up the ground.
It was such a terrible sight,
But still the soldiers continued to fight.
"Never give up, give it your all.
Don't ever be afraid to take the fall.
Fight for your country! Fight to be free!
You may die, but in vain it wont be."
He ended his speech in a powerful way.
He didn't know but he would die that day.
At his funeral, his wife stood up to speak.
Her eyes were red, and she looked weak,
"I wanted to tell my husband, I thought he was brave.
But know he lies silently in the cold grave.
I wanted to tell him, I'm carrying his baby boy.
I can just picture his face light up with joy.
I'm thankful he was fighting for me,
Thankful for keeping our country free."
She started to cry, as she stood by his lifeless side
Imagining every tear that he had cried.
She stayed by his side as the church emptied out;
She sang to her beloved soldier who left the world of doubt.
"I wont ever forget about you, my love.
Watch your boy grow from up above.
I know you haven't left me."
She knelled down and a hand touched her knee.
It was him, the soldier that she knew,
The man that love her too.
"I love you; I know you'll be alright.
To see you like this is a horrible sight.
My love, don't remember me like this.
It isn't my body I want you to miss.
I will be in all of your dreams.
I can hear all your screams.
Every smile and every tear,
I can feel every fear.
I will be the warmth by your side.
To catch every tear that you cried.
I told you I was coming home,
So I would have to leave you alone."
She put her head down, looked up and he wasn't there.
But she knew with out a doubt that he really does care.
She stood up and wiped the tears away
Knowing he was there to stay.



____________________
War Means Fighting And Fighting Means Killing - N. B. Forrest When war does come, my advice is to draw the sword and throw away the scabbard." Stonewall Jackson


 Posted: Tue Sep 30th, 2008 12:25 am
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Dixie Girl
Southern Belle


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When a soldier puts on that uniform,
He portrays his courage for us
When a soldier awaits his new job
He shows his willingness to serve for us
The soldier knows that there will be times he will be filled with pride.
What he doesn't know is that there is also a dark side.
When a soldier sees hundreds die before his eyes,
He keeps his courage for us
When a soldier lies in a tent in the rain,
He forgets his sorrow for us
Because alas, he knows what he was sent to do
to muffle his cries and be strong for you
As a soldier runs across the battlefield,
He risks his life for us
As a soldier endures the pain of a bullet
He showed his determination for us
His heart keeps telling him that he must stay strong
His brain keeps asking him for how long
When a soldier lies in a pool of his own blood
He knows he gave his best for us
When a soldier dies for us,
He is never forgotten.



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War Means Fighting And Fighting Means Killing - N. B. Forrest When war does come, my advice is to draw the sword and throw away the scabbard." Stonewall Jackson


 Posted: Tue Sep 30th, 2008 12:27 am
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Dixie Girl
Southern Belle


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Young, exited Soldiers,
Prepare themselves for war,
They quit their family,
Walk out the door.
Once arrived, they cock their gun,
They never know when it'll be done.
On the battlefield, the bullets rip.
As well as flesh, not just off the hip.
The bullets puncture them,
Just like a dart,
Fast and furious, right through their heart.
They came as men, women as well.
They put themselves through pain,
They called it hell.
Some survived, went home alive.
While others didn't, they took a dive.
Missed the dodge and took one to the chest.
Some of them were the best.
Their family now lives in pain,
All they can do is reminisce.
Off all the good times, all the gain.
Their only hope has now been crushed.
Of the safe return of their spouse.
The coffin buried,
Few days later,
Tears are shed,
Roses are spread.
The family prays, for the best,
Hoping that they can peacefully rest.



____________________
War Means Fighting And Fighting Means Killing - N. B. Forrest When war does come, my advice is to draw the sword and throw away the scabbard." Stonewall Jackson


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 Posted: Tue Sep 30th, 2008 04:40 pm
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Dixie Girl
Southern Belle


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so i take it you like em then. im multi-talented and i have a lot of free time, and i found that by writing i can fill it.



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War Means Fighting And Fighting Means Killing - N. B. Forrest When war does come, my advice is to draw the sword and throw away the scabbard." Stonewall Jackson


 Posted: Tue Dec 2nd, 2008 01:35 am
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Dixie Girl
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"It Is the Soldier
By Charles M. Province

It is the Soldier, not the minister
Who has given us freedom of religion.
It is the Soldier, not the reporter
Who has given us freedom of the press.
 It is the Soldier, not the poet
Who has given us freedom of speech.
It is the Soldier, not the campus organizer
Who has given us freedom to protest.
It is the Soldier, not the lawyer
Who has given us the right to a fair trial.
It is the Soldier, not the politician
Who has given us the right to vote.
It is the Soldier who salutes the flag,
Who serves beneath the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag,
Who allows the protester to burn the flag.

Last edited on Tue Dec 2nd, 2008 01:35 am by Dixie Girl



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War Means Fighting And Fighting Means Killing - N. B. Forrest When war does come, my advice is to draw the sword and throw away the scabbard." Stonewall Jackson


 Posted: Tue Dec 2nd, 2008 01:37 am
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Dixie Girl
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"What is a Vet?
Submitted by Wolf Gang member Mary Garner  

Some veterans bear visible signs of their service:
a missing limb, a jagged scar, a certain look in their eye.
Others may carry the evidence inside them:
a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg -
or perhaps another sort of inner steel:
a soul forged in the refinery of adversity.
Except in parades, however, the men and women
who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem.
You can't tell a Vet just by looking.
What is a Vet?
He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run out of fuel.
 He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.
She - or he - is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.
He is the POW who went away one person and came back another…or didn't come back AT ALL.
He is the Quantico drill instructor that has never seen combat - but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.
He is the parade-riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand.
He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by.
He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep. He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the nightmares come.
He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being, a person who offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs.   He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known.
So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just lean over and say “Thank You.”  That's all most people need, and in most cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded.
Two little words that mean a lot, "THANK YOU".


found this on the local radio stations website and found it interesting

Last edited on Tue Dec 2nd, 2008 01:37 am by Dixie Girl



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War Means Fighting And Fighting Means Killing - N. B. Forrest When war does come, my advice is to draw the sword and throw away the scabbard." Stonewall Jackson


 Posted: Tue Dec 2nd, 2008 02:46 am
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ole
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Thank you, Girl. I hope you're satisfied that you managed to choke me up.

Ole



 Posted: Tue Dec 2nd, 2008 12:33 pm
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Devils Den
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Dixie Girl-
I don't think you need to worry about how people feel about what you write. You keep writing and posting and we will keep reading.
I used to write a lot, but got sidetracked somewhere (about the time I started spending most of my time on a ballfield) but now I am getting the itch again!
Thanks for the poems!



 Posted: Tue Dec 2nd, 2008 02:09 pm
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Dixie Girl
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ole wrote: Thank you, Girl. I hope you're satisfied that you managed to choke me up.

Ole


yes sir, im satisfied!!! :D



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War Means Fighting And Fighting Means Killing - N. B. Forrest When war does come, my advice is to draw the sword and throw away the scabbard." Stonewall Jackson


 Posted: Wed Dec 17th, 2008 01:01 am
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Dixie Girl
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After the darkest,
Night of all nights,
After the bloodiest,
Fight of all fights,
The sun rose upward,
Like never before,
While bodies of champions,
Washed up on shore,
Survivors gone home,
Still lost after years,
With trembling tears,
What once was a man,
Who stood tall with pride,
Is now just a man with memories,
Of those who died!



____________________
War Means Fighting And Fighting Means Killing - N. B. Forrest When war does come, my advice is to draw the sword and throw away the scabbard." Stonewall Jackson


 Posted: Wed Dec 17th, 2008 01:05 am
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Dixie Girl
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THE LAND THAT MADE YOU FREE
For all of you who hate this war
I don't really know what to say
What cost of life do you need
 For a war to be okay?
 Some poeple say that a war is never right
 That fighting will never solve a thing
 But freedom isn't free my friends
 And i say let freedom ring
 Now I have some questions
 For all of you who think this is wrong
 What is it that you think holds us together?
What is it that you think makes us strong?
 What about the end of slavery?
 Was that not worth the fight?
 What about equality?
 That is now every Americans right?
 You cry at the death of a soldier
 And i assure you i cry too
 But what about those people in the towers?
 Do they mean nothing to you?
 So excuse me if I'm wrong
 But I just don't quite see
How you can go around bashing on
 The land that made you free



____________________
War Means Fighting And Fighting Means Killing - N. B. Forrest When war does come, my advice is to draw the sword and throw away the scabbard." Stonewall Jackson


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