Sitting sipping watching
With one eye on door
Waiting for old comrades
He knows he’ll see once more
Those left upon the battlefield
Fighting by his side
The men he toasts a drink to
With a tear in his eye
He’ll tell you all his stories
To keep his mates alive
And how it is his honour
That they helped him survive
So if you see a veteran
Sit with him for a while
Listen to his wisdom
And keep his memories alive

It's more than just
live or die,
you know.

There is an ocean of grey area-
limbo
quick sand.

A place where I don't want to stick around
yet
I don't want to disappear completely.

So I just float down the highway-
half there
and half not-
underwhelmed with the possibility of
my future flushed,
and overwhelmed
with the monotonous
trudging on
that I'm so well versed in.

Thing is

I don't want to jump,
but I just wish I could slip into the Atlantic
for a bit
to try it on-
like a wig,
or an evening gown,
absolutely priceless for a day.

‘Friends’-
That’s what she wrote.

That’s what ended it,
‘Friends’.

Ha!
How am I gonna recover?
If I text like everything’s A’ Ok?
I knew this was to good to be true...

‘Friends’-
That’s what ended it.

That’s what she wrote -
‘Friends’