The Old Man
The old man stood before the crowd,
He was frail and weak.
He was so scared to be standing there,
That he could barely speak.
They invited him to come and talk,
And even through the fear,
He wanted to tell about the life,
And things that he held dear.
He served his country long ago,
In wars across the sea,
And even though the years had passed,
Nightmares wouldn't let him be.
Many that he considered friends,
Still lay on foreign lands.
He told about watching as they fell,
And holding them in his hands.
He told the crowd about his pain,
From the very start,
About the suffering he had seen,
That still held hold of his heart.
When his story came to an end,
He limped as he sat down,
The tears were seen throughout the room,
A dry eye could not be found.
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