Poetry

Twenty two years

By 14th July 2011December 9th, 2019No Comments

Twenty two years of loyal service, nothing to show for that
A little red book and a few medals, he had managed to keep his hat
Action in conflict seen too often, thanks never given enough
Now a life alien to him, alone on the street living rough

A discharge without any assistance, no home or job to do
A few months he had managed, more a sort of muddled through
No one to tell him what to do, when should it be done and how
Finally a stark realisation for him, abandoned and all alone now

So begging and existing on the streets, all honour stripped from this man
If only somebody had bothered, now he must survive how he can
The beating if you were caught on a Saturday night, punks with no respect
Pleasure at beating this shell of a man, one who had only found neglect

A public experienced at ignoring, he sat on his cardboard every day
Nobody paid any attention to him; he had so much he wanted to say
No honourable man could exist like this, a train a leap and a release
The soldier who had fought for all of us, finally a route to some peace

David McDonald

Author David McDonald

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