The old soldier

by joetwo

The old soldier sits

Looking out over the street

Long since retired

Medals stored in the closet

Along with so many memories

Living on a pension

A little something from a grateful country

Just enough to get by


The old soldiers speaks

Talks to all who would listen

About what had happened

About his friends, his brothers

Those he left behind

Buried in foreign soil

Forgotten by all

But him

From a time before counselling

To talk is his medicine

Even if nobody listens


The old soldier watches

The lines of fresh recruits

Marching off to train

Preparing for the next righteous war

His mind filled with memories

How he looked like them, filled with bravado

Knew they would win

That it would be over by Christmas

But nothing of the cost

The broken bodies and minds

The tragedy of loss

How nothing ever changes