The Price We Pay

It was 25 years ago today.
A day that I remember with great dismay.
We came in Peace to a place named Beirut.
All I remember was my friends left boot.

Horror and chaos has become my norm.
I allowed other young kids to be safe in their dorm.
I traded in my freedom, so willing and steadfast.
The young college student was oblivious to my task.
I soon learned the price that we pay to be free.
And yet the young college student couldn't identify with me.

Amid the wreckage I found my friend Jim.
His chances of survival I was told could be slim.
His boot I did find and kept it with me.
The college student enjoyed the true meaning of being free..
Did he know at that time in a far off place.
Marines laid down their lives so he could find his space.

As we lined up the bodies, I began to wonder why?
If only I could see beyond my minds eye.
Jim's boot was significant to me can't you see.
His dog tag removed, meant that his soul was set free.
The college student carried on with not a care in the world.
My life had changed forever, or at least I am told.

The caskets of pine with hero's inside
Tells of a story that can never be denied.
Old Glory was draped carefully atop.
These hero's so willing to, "Go till they drop".
The sea of blood streamed from young men that day.
The college student had heard the news, yet it was so far away.

So far removed from the terror that was our everyday.
Who could understand more than the brothers who say...
Semper Fi and see you soon brother.
God will soon come calling for Marines, yet another.
As St. Peter queries the entry of a Marine.
He acknowledges and replies, with conviction as he tells...
"Another Marine Reporting Sir", "I've served my time in Hell".

The loss on this earth equates to a calmness in Heaven.
The streets divine will remain stronger, that's a given.
They say that God is almighty, we all agree.
Yet he calls upon Gyrenes to keep his streets free.
Perhaps in his infinite wisdom, he has learned what we sow.
These hero's, although human, possess hearts made of gold.

Upon my return home, to the city so nice it was named twice.
I stumbled upon the student who would soon learn of my strife.
He asked why I chose to be a Marine, he asked twice.
I told him it was my destiny, my choice, and my life.
My response was rejected, as my respect for him was blown.
He then told me his thoughts, as if he had already known.

He told me that the Corps was a choice I had made.
Because college was a place that my brain forbade.
I felt sorry for this boy, who believed what he said.
Especially remembering the price paid by the dead.
His freedom to speak and to chase a better life was his right.
But it was paid for by Marines, so willing to fight.