Old Soldiers Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Old soldiers never Dies

A neighbour of mine used to be a sergeant in the army,
in his living room, he had a picture of himself, in full uniform
that had many medal and ribbons on.
He served in many countries, Singapore and Germany, I think
he was the head of the motor pool; then the army let him
go it has no place for old men, and his pension was a disgrace.
Once he repaired my car, barking orders of what screwdriver he
wanted, shook his over my incompetence.
It was a day in October when the weather was hanging about like
a soldier who has not got his order; he went to bed for his afternoon
nap, when his wife brought him tea and biscuits at five, he had gone
to a military parade in the sky.