> THE FINAL INSPECTION
>
>
>
> The Marine 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! Marine,
>
>
> How shall I deal with you?
> Have you always 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 tough.
> And sometimes I've been violent,
> Because the world is awfully rough.
>
>
> But, I never took a penny,
> 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 had often trod.
> As the Marine waited quietly,
> For the judgment of his God.
>
> "Step forward now, Marine,
> You've borne your burdens well.
> Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
> You've done your time in Hell."
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