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Poems

martin  Feb 2018
The old soldier
martin Feb 2018
He used to man a machine gun
But now it was years since the war
When he'd fought for King and country
In the mud and the blood and the gore

How many Bosche did you **** they would ask
In his understated way
He'd say I must have got several
Not many got away

Sometimes on a Saturday night
Down at the Hart with a beer
It all came back to him like a wave
He'd stand and stare and stare

Then he was gripping his gun again
It was like he'd suddenly snapped
With his back to the wall he'd be shouting
Rat a tat, rat a tat tat

After a while he'd go quiet
Finish his drink alone
Darts flew again, cards were dealt
The old soldier walked back home