Wearing Medals On Their Chest Poem by Mark Heathcote

Wearing medals on their chest
Plumped out like those robins
That did also worked hard
For their hard-earned weft of rest.

It's their past winter valours
We‘re counting now, pride-filled.
On their own, old knurled sticks
There is only a handful, reside.

Remembers the war they served.
The men beside them who stood
Gave life, limb, courage coerced
At times worse, came home alone.

Friends and families are all gone!
At times worse, came home alone
An emptied cartridge a wounded faun,
Returned home, completely, withdrawn.

A father, returned to no child, no lover
A son returned to no father or mother.