Your love was my armour,
Your kindness my sword.
Your heart was my compass,
Your smile I adored.
Though the battle fatigued me,
Your grace kept me alive.
Knowing you need me,
helped me survive.
Once broken near beaten,
I often would cry.
But you pieced me together.
You lifted me high.
I stand here a Soldier,
Who you have made whole.
To love you forever,
That is my goal.

Tell me how your day went, did it go just as you planned?
Did you get your filing sorted, is everything at hand?
Did you get your cup of coffee as you chatted to your staff,
Did the new guy on reception ***** up and make you laugh?
Me? Oh mine was busy, I watched a young boy die.
I worked so hard to save him, oh God really, I did try.
A disbelieving mother could not fathom what I said.
How hard it is to tell her that her loving son was dead.
Did you miss your boss’s deadline, is your laptop on the fritz
Is that guy from sales department getting on your ****?
Sometimes I’d gladly swap you, your chores for just a day
So I don’t see the things I see or the things I have to say.
I’m just your average copper, doing everything I can.
To help make sure you stay safe, and your days goes to your plan.
Me? I’m just expected to get on with what I do,
To be just fine when I knock off and put away the blue.
Tell me how your day went, did everything go fine?
Please give a thought to all of us as we walk that thin blue line.

Who are we the soldiers, the airmen and Jack Tars.
We who keep on serving, neath blazing sun or stars.
We don't crave attention, we don't make a fuss.
Our service goes unnoticed , no one thinks of us.
We are someone's brother, mother, father, son.
A sister or a daughter to some their only one.
But we've another family, one we've grown to love as well
A family who stand with us when we are going through hell.
We've bonds that go unbroken even death can't take away
Friendship, trust, togetherness each and every day.
You hear the cries "for valour," or "for god and country" too
But what is oft forgotten is our service is for you.
So all we ask is simple, on a cold November day.
For our colleagues that  have left us please bow your head and pray.

I cannot hear the silence nor the deafening gales of war.
I cannot hear soft crying, or the shelling’s wailing roar.
I cannot see the dying, or the warriors strewn around.
Their uniforms and memories cast across the bloodied ground.
I cannot smell the wretchedness of dead and dying men.
Or sense the sickly smell of fear when “going over”, once again.
I cannot feel the coldness nor the damp beneath my feet.
Nor taste the bitter taste of blood in the summer's clawing heat.
My senses cannot tell me what those many men went through.
To grant the gift of freedom and peace to me and you.
Their senses fuelled their nightmares, and woken hours as well.
The first days full of eagerness, turning soon to hell.
Fathers, sons, and brothers left loved ones far away.
With cheery words and singing as they left and marched away.
No whistling now or cheering from those mouths that cannot sing.
Their kin back home familiar now with tears that eyes do sting.
Now it takes so very little to give thanks for such a lot.
For the only thing they asked us was, that we forget them not.