The Final Inspection

The solider 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 aint.

Because those of us who carry guns,

Cant always be a saint.

Ive had to work most Sundays,

At times my talk was tough.

And sometimes Ive been violent,

Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny,

That wasnt 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,

Ive wept unmanly tears.

I know I dont deserve a place,

Among the people here.

They never wanted me around,

Except to clam their fears.

If youve a place for me here, Lord,

It neednt be so grand.

I never expected or had too much,

But if you dont Ill understand.

There was a silence all around the throne,

Where the saints had often trod.

As the solider waited quietly,

For the judgment of his God.

Step forward now, you soldier,

Youve borne your burdens well.

Walk peacefully on Heavens streets,

Youve done your time in Hell.

~Author Unknown~

I have been searching the web

to find the author to this wonderful

poem, if anyone knows who originally

wrote this please let me know.