My Small Tin Cup

here I sit on a cold street corner
my small tin cup rests here at my feet
hoping for some dimes or more
so I can get some food to eat
seven years I served my country proudly
now this is where I'm living at
my teeth clatter very loudly
yet there sits my tin cup quite empty
not one person seems to even notice
every one just keeps passing me by
while I sit here hungry, inside I slowly die
so this is the way veterans are treated
by a nation we had so proudly served
things must be changed far better we deserve
honored by the patroit guard I listen
to the sounds of taps being played
hear the three shots fired , like a awful slap
because soon I'll rest in my dark grave
there is my casket draped with my country's flag
why has respect for fallen veterans really lagged
just bury me with my tin cup in hand
my vietnam veteran hat covers my head
then I know I won't be alone

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