The old man cries
The Old Man Cries
With his head bowed down
Looking old and grey
He stands and remembers
On this special day
He is remembering friends
From when he was young and fit
But now he is alone
So often he is sick
Wearing sombre clothes
He has a poppy in his lapel
He is thinking of the past
And all those years of hell
So many of his friends did die
Eighty plus years ago
Yet he still sits and remembers
But now he is old and slow
So many of his friends died young
They never did grow old
Many just buried where they fell
In poppy fields, so cold
He wants us all to respect
His brave friends, now dead,
Who gave their lives, so we might live
And with bowed head, his tears are shed.
NO WONDER THE OLD MAN CRIES
About the author
doreenhampshire would love your feedback, please leave your comments below:
Showcase your literature
Log in to contribute
You need to be logged in to interact with Silversurfers. Please use the button below if you already have an account.
LoginNot a member?
You need to be a member to interact with Silversurfers. Joining is free and simple to do. Click the button below to join today!
Join
