The Final Inspection

The Marine stood and faced his God,

Which must always come to pass

He hoped his shoes were shining bright,

Just as brightly as his brass

"Step forward now, Marine,

How shall I deal with you?

Have you turned the other cheek?

To my church have you been true?"

The Marine squared his shoulders and said,

" No Lord, I guess I ain't.

Because those of us who carry guns

Can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays,

And at times my talk was rough,

Because the world is awfully tough.

But, I never took a thing

That wasn't mine to keep...

Though I worked a lot of overtime

When the bills got just too steep,

And I never passed a cry for help,

Though at times I shook with fear,

And sometimes, God forgive me,

I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place

Among the People here,

They never wanted me around

Except to calm their fears.

If you've a place for me here, Lord

It needn't be so grand,

I never expected or had too much,

But if you don't I'll understand."

There was a silence all around the throne

Where the saints often trod

As the Marine waited quietly,

For the judgment of his God.

"Step forward now, Marine,

You've borne your burdens well,

Come walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,

You've done your time in Hell

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