Letters Back Home. Poem by Mike Berriman

I wrote those letters daily
To all the folks back home
But now it's just a box of paper
Where silverfish do roam.

I wrote those letters daily
In the heat and in the rain
And spoke about our unit
And of mates and joy and pain.

I wrote those letters daily
One always to you my dear
I spoke about the food and wet
Remembering what I fear.

I promised to be faithful
And be a proper man
To act a better soldier
To be the best I can.

Now twenty years have run away
Those letters are still bound
Thrown away like our lost love
Not wanting to be found.

MB 1990.