There he stood,
Tall, brave,
Handsome as ever.
A little twinkle in his eye,
Showed he had loved,
Loves still,
And will love in the future.
His smile so gentle and soft,
Never would you have guessed,
He came from war.
Never would you see what is hidden
Behind those eyes.
The fear, the hatred,
The blood shed tears for which he wept
For those whose lives were lost.
His hands rest softly by his sides,
The forestock of the rifle in his right hand.
The pale white gloves,
Set his uniform just right.
The medals of bravery shimmer,
With every breath he takes.
The poppy which rests above his heart,
Strikes a memory,
Which he cannot bare.
The last note of the final song is played.
As a tear escapes from his eye.
It cannot be held back any longer.
This strong, handsome,
Brave man who stands before us on this day,
Is no longer afraid to show it.
Show how war shattered his sweet,
Loving heart.
As he marches away,
One thing crosses my mind.
Is war worth this pain?
