Home For Ever Poem by Tom Higgins

Another delivery arrives in a plane,
six oblong, wooden boxes,
flag draped, carried by mates,
sent home from the Afghan plain.
They did their duty,
but they won't be going back again.
They never saw it coming,
the blast which killed them all.
Another hidden improvised device,
that made so many fall.
Four of them had just passed twenty,
one was only nineteen,
and their sergeant, he was the old man,
he'd reached thirty three.
They liked living, partying, loving,
five of them were not yet dads,
their sergeant was a husband and father,
but the others now will leave all of that,
to other, vital, strong, and still breathing lads.
For them, all that remains to do now,
is the encore,
as they move slowly in their last convoy,
through the breaking waves of sadness,
past the lowered heads and flags,
to take their final bow.