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[DeadShot]

i have a poem here

tis was anight before christmas he lived all alone
in a one bed-roomed house made of plaster and stone
i had come down the chimney with presents to give
and to see just in this house did live
i looked all about, a strange sight i did see
no tinsel no presents, not even a tree
no stockings by the mantel just boots filled with sand
and the walls of pictures of far-distant lands
with medals and badges awards of all kind
a sober thought came through my mind
for this house was different, it was dark and dreary
i found the home of a soldier, once i could see clearly
the soldier lay sleeping silent, alone
curled up on the floor in this one bed-roomed home
the face was so gentle, the room was in dis-order
not how i pictured a british soldier
was this the hero of whom i just read?
curled up in a poncho, the floor for a bed
i realised the families i saw that night
owed a lot to the soldiers who were willing to fight
soon round the world the children would play
grown ups would celebrate a bright christmas day
they all enjoyed freedom each month of the year
because of the soldiers, like the one lying here
i couldnt help wonder how many lay alone
on a cold christmas eve and a land so far from home
the very thought made a tear come to my eye
i dropped to my knees and started to cry
the soldier awakened and i heard a rough voice
"santa dont cry, this life is my choice
i fight for freedom, i dont ask for more
my life is my god, my country, my core
the soldier rolled over, and drifted to sleep
i couldnt control it, i continued to weep
i kept watch for hours, so silent and still
and we both shivered from the cold nights chill
i didnt wanna leave on this cold dark night
this guardian of honour so willing to fight
then the soldier rolled over with a voice soft and pure
whispered, "carry on santa, all is secure"
i looked at my watch and i knew he was right
merry christmas my friend, and to all good night


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