Through World War One he served his country well
through Flanders mud, survived the living hell.
Back home again, and struggling for breath
his nightmares told of mustard gas and death.
Years later, when the Nazis raised their heads
there came the call that every young man dreads
and once again he bravely went to war,
and fought for King and Country as before.
He won his medals at El Alamein,
then badly wounded journeyed home again.
The years passed swiftly, young man turned to old
his children always fed and warmly clothed.
He lost his wife, but bravely carried on
his children grew and married and moved on
Until one summers’ day clouds hid the sun
and cowards’ hands did what no war had done
The old man, who had once survived the Somme
was blown to Hell by one young madmans’ bomb
and when at last the final toll was read
it listed forty wounded, fifteen dead
The smoke has cleared, and London carried on
all signs of carnage now are nearly gone
While cowards celebrate what they have done
The old mans medals glisten – in the sun