Some move forward
Other ride the grates cold
How is it the soldier
Dies a hundred deaths
After the war

Is it the soul that moves
Core as solid as time
Yet the battle scars
Are often mind riddled

Gunfire solves little
Just images dancing
So many thoughts
So much hurt


Faces all dead
March on
Hundreds in dreams
And hundreds more
In dreams yet to come

Still the lunch is free
The stories warm
The memories fade
A pat on the back
Thank you
For your service