The time has passed, too quickly,
since the years they served in war.
Some grow bald, others grey,
They are rounder than before.
Today’s objective is the restaurant
to beat the midday rush
When Retired Old Marines Eat Out
They usually meet for lunch.
At times like this, they reminisce
of D.I.’s they have known.
Speak the unused names of friends
who never made it home.
They give their time to charities;
Like Christmas toys for tots,
and package gifts for young Marines
who serve now they cannot.
They serve as honor guard for those
Who’ve reached the final post.
The few, the proud, who keep us free,
Have given more than most.
Perhaps not lean,
but still quire keen,
Semper Fi,
the Corps.