JB Moss Table of Content

The Four Thousandth Soldier
Number 4000

I am number four thousand, but don't you know
That's an honor I'd really rather forego,
For who remembers the others who fell,
The others before me that felt death's knell.

I was number four thousand, and after that's said
The question is begged, How many more dead
Does it take to ask Why, What's it all about,
The shooting and crying leave no room for doubt...

Being number four thousand just ain't no big thing,
Ask number three thousand if his praises we sing -
I'd rather not say that my death has no meaning
But if quantity counts, then four thousand is steaming...

So the number four thousand, which seemed like a lot
Before 2008, which is how far we've got,
Will look so much smaller if we stay this course
And 2012 will see eight thousand, or worse.

Pray for those fallen, itís the least you can do,
Four thousand dead soldiers, face down in the dew -
And while you are down on bended knee
Remember the four thousandth - for that would be me.

John B. Moss
© 03/23/2008

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