They Would Never Call Themselves A Hero

They would never

Call themselves

a Hero

Though they fought

For the freedom

We so often take for granted.

They reserve the word hero for

The buddy fallen

The one who died over sees

The father, or Mother

The brother or sister

Who fought so valliantly,

Everyday to these heroes

Is a day to remember

To celebrate the memory

Of a buddy fallen

Of a commrade who

Was not afraid

To risk it all

For the freedom

We so often thinks comes


Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


12:27 P.M PST

Written In Letters

It was captured

In letters written home

Still not all of it

Told in letters

How does on

Speak of Grief

In mere written words

When the thought tares at your heart

Breaking it the weight

Crushing you down

And the gulit you feel.

So much captured

In letters written home

But so much left unsaid

Like the sick feeling

In the stomach

The first time you saw an innocent die.

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


4:33 P.M PST

Fight the Fight

May you always

Stand strong

In the fights you fight

Be the warriors

Shed the light

You are warriors


Fighting for freedom

Fighting for Christ

Fight the good fight

Keep the faith.

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


He Spoke

This is a tribute to all who serve in war and in peace, but especially to those who served during World War 2, many are gone their legacies live on…

He spoke with tear filled eyes

Of a long ago war

That forever changed his life

A battle in a place called

Iwa Jima

A lifetime ago

But memories like that

They never fade

And images of a commrade falling

Never leave your mind

You relive them over and over again

He says

As they listen.

He shakes his head

In disgust

As he watches

A protest

At an army funeral

Something has to be done

Our fallen heros deserve better

Than this.

He looks up

A child before him

Reaches an aged hand out

And says these hands

They bled, they made bleed

So that this child

May be free.

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


11:20 A.M PST

He Said Soldier

He Said Soldier

Not all are called to do

What you do.

This battle you fight

Is going to feel like

Walking through Hell

At time.

He said Soldier

You are going to wear

Those camfalogu pants

As proudly as you would

Wear dress blues.

He said Soldier

These images are

Going to be burned in

Your head forever

Monster images

Toying with your very being

Will you still do this?

The Soldier Said

God how could I do any less

For them then what you have

Done for me.

I spit and mocked at you

I said things

I wish I had never said

I defiled your very Word

The way some defile the American flag.

He Said Soldier

Go and serve

You make your Father proud.

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


11:23 P.M PST

Let Us Not Forget

~ I do not drink but for so many Memorial Day has become something less than what it is, let’s remember those who sacrifice so we can celebrate.~

As we celebrate

Let us not forget

What we are celebrating

And why!

The sacrifices of brothers

Of sisters who were willing

To fight and to often die.

They are the heroes

The one’s who risk

Life and Limb

While so many of us

Forget the sacrifice

While drinking chilled beers

And forgetting the blood

With each drink.

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


11:16 A.M PST

She Was (A Tribute to Our Veterans)

Karla you latest poem Remember Me inspired this one…

She was Daddies little girl

All American tomboy

Growing up it was GI Joes

And War toys to her

She dreamed of fighting for her


Showing the world

What her a mere girl could do.

They laughed at first

Until they saw the determination

In her eyes

And she joined

That September day

When the whole world changed

And the American Way

Was tested in every way.

She was Daddies little girl

Mommy’s little angel

Her blood shed for this country

The closest I can get

To doing what Jesus did

She said

Now they salute her

Her Memory her heroism.

She was Daddy’s Little Girl

Mamma’s little angel

But most of all

She was an American Soldier.

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


6:13 P.M PST

Freedom Not Without A Cost

Freedom did not come
Free it was bought with
Of the Hero’s
Who fought so that
We may have the right
To stand up
And speak for what we believe.

Freedom came with a cost
The ultimate cost
Someone died for that right.
So every time you gather together
And speak up
Remember those freedoms
Were afforded
Because someone was willing to risk their lives.

Freedom did not come
It was bought with blood
And tears
And sweat
For those who died
And those who lived
All who served.
So amidst the barbeques
And get together’ s
Take a moment to life a prayer
For all who suffered
All who died
That we may be free.

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell

1:07 P.M PST

He Stands for America

He stands and salutes the flag

A proud man who served his country

In Vietnam

His son fought

In Operation Storm.

He is a proud man

Sickened by the disrespect

For the very thing

He lost his right leg for

Our freedom.

He stands and salutes

The flag

A true American hero

Who stands

For freedom and faith.

Copyright Michelle R Kidwell


10:25 P.M PST

Like A Faded Photograph

Like a faded photograph

Carried in a wallet,

So they carry memories of service.

Some carry memories of war

In times of combat

Buddies falling in places

With strange sounding names.

Some carry memories of stateside service

Army Navy Airforce and Marines.

They fight their own battles everyday underappreciated

By the very country they served.

©Michelle R Kidwell

November 08.2013