THEOLDMAN

Wars come,
Wars go
They never end.
Young men are called
To join the parade of soldiers.
They march with the ghosts of past wars.
Go into the fight young man;
Politicians send you in
While they sit in their paneled offices.
You are out on patrol;
CLICK…
The flash of light;
The terrifying report;
The blood covers you,
The discovery that it’s not yours;
It’s your buddy two meters in front of you.
You are covered in death… in darkness;
While the politicians sit in their paneled offices.
You wonder who’s the lucky one.
It’s over for the dead,
Sent home in a Star-Spangled Box.
But your fight has just begun,
To get the benefits that are your due.
Your wounds are not visible
Yet they cut just as deep.
While the politicians sit in their paneled offices.
You can’t sleep,
You still hear…
CLICK…
You still see the light;
You still have your buddy all over you.
A young man aged beyond the years,
You have seen more than you can bear
CLICK…
Stepping into the fight,
The fight that never ends,
Just as the wars that never end.
All the while the politicians sit in paneled glory;
One term gets them all their due.
While you wait and wait;
CLICK…
The Soldier’s Plight





Albert Durocher
15 Apr 2011


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