An Old Vets Christmas
He shuffles down a quiet darkened street,
alone, he always dreads this time of year,
cause locals he just cannot bear to meet.
He eats collected scraps and drinks warm beer.
Now as the rain begins to softly fall,
he crawls beneath a long deserted shop.
And hears the singing from the nearby hall,
while all the time, he wishes, they would stop.
A flash sends goose bumps covering his skin,
the sky now rumbles with a long deep tone.
Then brings back horrors hidden deep within,
again he fronts the enemy alone.
The rain’s like thunder on this roof of tin,
like non stop gunfire in a jungle dense.
He’s once again a soldier in the din,
where, many boys lost all their innocence.
Now mortars fall as with each lightning blast
he huddles in his cardboard box and prays
and sees horrific visions from the past,
the sight of blown up bodies always stays.
The ‘war’ is easing as the thunder dies,
he now releases clasping hands from ears.
Remembers politicians and their lies
and how so many died throughout those years.
He hears again the Christmas Carols clear,
his shaking starts now slowly to disperse.
While in the darkness, sheds a lonely tear,
for this sad life he knows he can’t reverse.
The singers now relax his aching mind,
then, finally succumbed he starts to doze.
He dreams of worldwide peace to all mankind,
though, not in his lifetime, yes!, this he knows.
David J Delaney
21/12/2009 ©
