Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

To the drum.

Dressed as a pauper.

looks like a thief.

Pushing the boundaries 

Of your disbelief.

The raggedy man

in raggedy pants.

Arguing loudly

incoherent rants.

Stares covered in shame

Thinking of different

things to blame.

Don’t talk to him

he’s only a tramp.

Stay away from

his miserable stance.

Heap your scorn

on his shambling form.

Never minding why

he’s so forlorn.

 

But try to expand 

your closed off mind.

Try to see someone 

don’t be so blind.

Cause I’ll tell you about

One that I’ve often seen.

Was one of our proudest

Royal Marines. 

And blown up and battered

when he came back.

Visions and horrors 

stacked upon stack.

He did a lot for 

our union jack.

Although he say’s 

with true modesty,

It was all for me mates

on that front line with me.

 

So next time

You flinch at a

Shambling spectre,

Spare a thought, 

about what you 

think you might know.

Instead of planning 

how to pass go.

You might want to see

a little bit beyond his poor facade.

One time this lad held a rank

in a fighting Brigade.

You might need to go over

and you might need to thank.

The lad in the doorway.

Looking so dank.

Dwell upon him if you can,

Who went off as a boy

and came back home

this damaged old man. 

 

◄ Days.

Homage ►

Comments

Profile image

Various

Sun 22nd May 2016 20:15

Yes they are David, i'd been listening to Bob and he set my mind off in that direction.... seemed appropriate to homage him. I'm glad you noticed.
We have a great new project here in Hull... called "Homes for Heroes" and people volunteer their skills and renovate a property which is then rented to Vet families who are struggling.
Sadly the worse of our sufferers choose to be on the street with all it risks.
When I was in Kiwi we had a guy, Vietnam vet, who disappeared into the bush and lived in a bunker for a month every time a chopper passed over... happily bonkers though. Of course people forget the risk increases with age but not the suffering.
I'm glad your compassion is about us!

Profile image

Wendy

Sun 22nd May 2016 04:01

Hi Phil what can I say I'm lost for words .Tears are rolling down my face .lts a cruel world your poem brings strong feelings home to you thankyou for a that .Well done ,my dad was a C Sgt In the army I never knew him or knew of him all I have is a number on my birth certificate sadly I never got to meet him regards Wendy

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message