A Soldiers Story Poem by christine mcCherry

Do not see me as I am now,
a bent old man with wizened brow.
But close your eyes and picture me
as the man I used to be,
Tall and straight and in my prime,
another place, another time

Your country needs you was the cry
there were so many such as I.
All were loyal, brave and true,
in uniforms of every hue.
They died in fields of filth and mud
marbled streaked with bright red blood.

I felt so proud when they gave to me
a medal for my gallantry
It did not matter I could not see
them pin that hard won badge on me
My fight was o’er, the battle won,
I could be with my wife and son.

Now the only thing I see
is just a vivid memory
Of broken bones and dying screams,
Cannons roar and shattered dreams
My medal I could no longer save,
it’s value less than what I gave

I pray that when these words you read
you will, my son, at last take heed
I fought to live that much is true
but I also fought for you,
Let not my sacrifice be in vain,
don’t turn away from me in shame.

Buy a poppy, wear it with pride
remember now all those who died,
Aye, and those who still live on as well,
and suffer yet wars’ fiery hell.
And promise, when you look at me
you see the man I used to be.