All formed in rank and file;
Many a battle they fought and won
For the shine of a little boy's smile.
Now the cannon sits tarnished with age,
The soldiers stand frozen in stare,
Awaiting the touch of tiny hands
That loved and placed them there.
But little men grow up, alas
To march in wars of their own,
And the pain they feel and the deaths they die
Toy soldiers have never known.
Little toy soldiers with little toy guns,
Wearing dust on helmet and pack,
How sad your wait will be in vain -
Your Captain won't be back.