Old bent and broken
Like some worn out shoe
Why!! Where did I go wrong, what did I do?
I served my country, paid all my dues
Now all I have left is this worn threadbare suit
For the next few hours I'll just wander the streets
Find an empty doorway, have a few hours sleep
Food! Well at my age a littles enough
A few discarded chips or a hard stale crust
I think of my comrades who gave up their lives
Now I wish I'd died with them
Beside them to lie
Its not my fault that I've grown tired and old
But who's going to mourn me
As my body grows cold
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 5:26 PM UTC
Old bent and broken
Like some worn out shoe
Why!! Where did I go wrong, what did I do?
I served my country, paid all my dues
Now all I have left is this worn threadbare suit
For the next few hours I'll just wander the streets
Find an empty doorway, have a few hours sleep
Food! Well at my age a littles enough
A few discarded chips or a hard stale crust
I think of my comrades who gave up their lives
Now I wish I'd died with them
Beside them to lie
Its not my fault that I've grown tired and old
But who's going to mourn me
As my body grows cold
This is an edited version of something I wrote a long time ago and is written for all the ex servicemen who will be spending this Christmas hungry and cold in a shop doorway
Reposted for Steve Reimer, Mark Cleavenger and all who have seen the bitter truth
