If someone says that freedom's free
Then, they don't have a clue
Of the things they take for granted
And the cost to me and you

Freedom has a price tag
And it's measured out in lives
of sons and missing daughters
In husbands and in wives

The cost of freedom's heavy
No dollar value can be set
Think of those who gave their life
When you next go thank a vet

Freedom is expected
But, freedom isn't free
Sacrifices must be made
If freedom we will see

The choice to fight is simple
It's something someone has to do
A soldier is a hero
He made his choice for you

Next time you hear somebody
Say they deserve all that they get
Take them down to the town legion
And let them say thank you to a vet

Jim Brady was a local man
His life was non-descript
He was not on local radar
In fact, he was a blip
He moved around but no-one knew
Just who Jim Brady was
they knew not where he came from
They didn't know his flaws
He worked under the table
He wasn't on the grid
But of all the money that Jim made
He gave most to his kids
He worked nights at Giannis
In the kitchen, ***** stuff
He cleaned up after closing
The work here...it was tough
But Jim, worked hard and honest
Earned his money every day
And Gianni, as a favour
Off the records he would pay
Jim Brady was a soldier
He was broken...and no good
But Gianni, saw his life light
And he did what all men should
He gave Jim work and fed him
Kept him clean and made a life
For Jim had come home injured
But it was internal strife
Jim's mind was torn and tattered
Simple thoughts could cause him pain
Jim Brady was a soldier
But would never serve again
He had trouble with his anger
He was not quite in control
But Gianni saw a soldier
Who needed help out of a hole
Gianni ran a restaurant
Been there for 30 years
He helped all those who knew him
Through the smiles and the tears
He housed the ones who needed
Just to get off of the streets
He fed the tired and hungry
And he performed other feats
Gianni was a hero
To all in this poor town
He would never turn a man away
If he knew that he was down
When Jim came in one evening
Gianni read his face
He said "Son, I'll help you"
"And you're now working in this place"
Jim lived by the water
The noises kept him calm
But on nights of wild weather
He stay at Giannis, nice and warm
Loud noises brought the nightmares
Put the pictures in his head
Of the IED explosion
And of his three companions dead
He went to get some treatment
But the VA said "You're fine"
"there's more important cases
than just you out in the line"
He was shuffled home to start again
A damaged, broken man
But with issues like poor Jim did have
He tried as one man can
His marriage broke down quickly
His wife was not to blame
But Jim came home with issues
And the **** war was to blame
He looked for help at every turn
But no-one would help out
Until he met Gianni
Jim's new hero I won't doubt
He gave him work and money
Jim then gained some self esteem
He wasn't Jim the soldier
But, you could see who he had been
His pride was back, his head was high
But still he had the dreams
There was nothing that they knew of
To alleviate the screams
But Gianni, still the hero
Thought "I know what might just work"
He introduced Jim to The Bluesman
He also has a minor quirk
The Bluesman as you seem to know
Lives out behind and plays
His music in the alley
Where he spends most of his days
Gianni helped The Bluesman
Maybe he could now help Jim
It could be The Bluesman's music
Might just be right for him
Most nights when Jim was working
He'd leave the window open some
Just to let Bluesman's music
Find the kitchen . make Jim hum
Jim liked The Bluesman's music
It painted pictures in his head
But this time they were joyful ones
Not pictures of the dead
They helped him come to terms with things
That made his life a mess
They did what others couldn't do
His problems were addressed
With Gianni and The Bluesman
Jim moved on and did quite well
Funny how a restauranteur
And music man could bring Jim back from hell.

I was drinking at the Legion

The place wasn't really busy

But there was one man at a table

Who made me really dizzy

He was waving all around the room

He was really in a zone

The funny thing about it

He was sitting all alone

He spoke in quiet whispers

And he heard silent replies

From chairs that sat there empty

He heard their mournful cries

He had a beer before him

But he never left his chair

And no one sat beside him

It's just like he wasn't there

So, I went about my business

Playing darts and shooting pool

Buying tickets for the meat draws

Watching young ones acting cool

The other active members

Who'd spent some time in battle

Always checked to see his beer was full

As he sat there spouting prattle

It's unwritten at the Legion

You never ask about the war

You just revel in their company

That's what the place is for

There's veterans who'll tell stories

Of years gone bye and bye

But, you never ask a question

"Did you see somebody die?"

The Actives know their station

The young ones though do not

It's because of all the Actives

They've got all that they've got

As time went on I wondered

The story of this man

So , I went and asked the barkeep

He said "I'll tell you what I can"

He served two brews and wiped a glass

He stood flashing a smile

"You'd better grab a chair my boy"

"This here might take a while"

I sat and listened as he talked

About this man distressed

He told me "His name's Harold"

"And you can say his mind is messed"

"I've been working here for twenty years

And he's been here twice that

He's never moved from that **** chair

That's where Harold's always sat"

He got up once to fill a glass

And then came back to me

"When I came here, I had just got home

"I'd been fighting overseas"

"From what I heard at first" he said

"Harold's always been that way"

"And as you can see from watching"

"He'll always stay that way"

"He's lost inside his mind you know

To June 6  in forty four"

"We both know that as D-Day

"But he knows it as more"

"It was Juno Beach from what I've told

he landed with his squad

Over 14,000 Canadians

And now most lie with God"

I then got up and went outside

I said "I need a break"

I went out for a cigarette

For this tale had made me shake

I went back in, got two more beers

And sat right down again

"His whole platoon went down that day

They'd lost 3,000 men"

"There was Harold and 300

"others who survived"

"But living life inside their heads"

"I think they'd wished they'd died"

"He lives with Jean, his sister"She's been there all his life

"She put her life on hold for him

"She's never been a wife"

"She pays me for his beer every month

"And says to keep some for me

"But a penny's never crossed my bar

"You see ...Old Harold drinks for free"

"I give her money now and then

"I say he won a draw"

"Just for showing up each day I say

"just that and nothing more"

I went and grabbed a bar rag

And I wiped my teary eyes

I then paid for my drinks and

I left fifty bucks besides

He said your bill's eight fifty

What's all the extra for?

I said that he could keep it

Or just put it in his draw

He nodded and he smiled

And I left the bar for home

And as I left I watched poor Harold

On Juno Beach, his mind, his home

I came back three months later

And I saw no Harold there

There was now an empty table

And now, four empty chairs

"Dear God, it's you"....the barkeep said

"Grab your coat, come with me"

"Harold died on Saturday"

"And his funeral's at three"

He died a war time hero

But still a prisoner all the same

And down at our old Legion

Very few knew Harold's name

When we got out to the gravesite

I expected to see more

But there was just Old Harold's sister

The priest and us two...made it four.

We said a prayer, and sang a Hymn

He was back with his Platoon

He was back on Juno Beach again

Where his life ended that June

It's a shame that no one came out

To see him on his way

But, there'll be me and Bill the barkeep

Every year and on this day.

"Hello baby, how have you been

You know I'm coming back there soon,

I'll get to tell you of things I've seen

As we sit beneath the moon

I miss you so with all my heart

And till we meet again

It's been rough to spend this time apart

So, I will wait until then.

To hold you once more in my arms

And look upon your face

You know I'll keep you safe from harm

You make my heartbeat race

We;ll have our wedding in the churchl that

We were christened in as kids

You know there church where we once sat

And as children we once hid

We'll soon be one when we are wed

Our family has begun

It;ll be like we both said

We;ll be stronger now as one.

You know I miss you every day

But you keep me alive

A safe return to you I pray

It's the goal to which I strive

It's been three years that I've been here

In this hell hole of a war

But I've been strong and shown no fear

With your love at my core

My time is short and I must go

Our squadron has to part

But in two weeks you know I;ll show

The love that's in my heart"

As I look out upon the  field

The green grass specked with white

I really think how beautiful

To see this scene so bright

There are those who've come beofre today

and stood here just like me

Of those who come for JFK

Who died in sixty three

You see I am in Arlington

To lay my love to rest

He died when he was fired on

With five more of our best

He wrote me that love letter

Post marked two weeks ago today

Our lives would be much better

When he got home from the fray.

His squad was taken quickly and

Not one of them survived

They're together now on sacred land

And my letter just arrived.

Hello baby, how have you been

You know I'm coming back there soon,

I'll get to tell you of things I've seen

As we sit beneath the moon

I miss you so with all my heart

And till we meet again

But now we're not so far apart

Now he's in Arlington.

T'was the night before Christmas, And at the back of the bar

Sat a man all alone, Lighting up a cigar

The waitress ran over and waving her hand

You can't do that here, Smoking is banned.

If you must smoke that thing, you can go to the street

And stay away from the building, by at least fifty feet

The man took a puff and with a voice like a croak

He said, "You're kidding, right miss? You're making a joke"

I'm sorry, but sir..I'm afraid that it's true

But the law is the law, and it's not only for you

That we must say **** out, please extinguish your smoke

So our place can be filled with other fine folk

For ninety two years I have walked on this earth,

I have broken no laws and you know what it's worth?

Bupkiss, no nada it's not worth a thing

Would that law still apply if I was a King?

I've been coming in here for 60 odd years

And I think I've consumed a truckload of beers

I've smoked in this corner on many a night

Now you say **** out, I don't think that's right.

I fought for this country at the end of the war

I came home with a war wound, and you know dear...what's more

I came to this bar to have drinks with my friends

Who all weren't so lucky and met terrible ends

They died on the beach, heart as big as a house

Taking on the unknown for their country, their spouse

They battled for honor, the right to be free

And they all weren't as lucky, to come home like me.

I was here in the sixities when Camelot died

I was here with my son, and we both sat and cried

It was that night in November, I remember it well

That my son said he'd joined up and was heading to hell

He had joined the marines and was all set to fight

For freedom and honor and he knew it was right

Because I'd gone before and stood with others like him

And I said just be safe, and come home son...my Jim

In the years he was gone, I came down here to think

Of why he was there and I shared smokes and drinks

With friends, all now gone from this world of distrust

Now they all lie beneath us, decomposed back to dust.

My son made it back and we came right down here

To spend time with our friends, both from far and from near.

The years passed us by and my grandson joined too

And we sat and we prayed in this bar, for we knew

He was fighting for freedom and the rights we hold dear

Like having some fun, over smokes and some beer.

He never came home from his war, don't you see

That's why we're sitting alone here, just you and me

Tonight is the night that his letter arrived

Saying "We regret to inform you...that no one survived"

So, each Christmas Eve I come back to this bar

To savor my memories and to drink from this jar

And I finish each year thinking of what now is gone,

Of my battle scarred boy and his now deceased son

Now, you come and tell me that I must go outside

To continue my smoking and so I'll abide

'cause for 92 years that I've been on this earth

I've broken no laws and you know what that's worth

Then the waitress reached back and she pulled out a match

From a box on the bar with a rusty old catch

She said Sir, I am sorry I didn't mean to offend

For this one night each year, the law I can bend

So please light one for me on this Christmas Eve Night

And Thank you from all who continue the fight.

Merry Christmas and HAPPY NEW YEAR 2019

History is written by winners

Their story's the one that is told

The loser's are like dust in a zephyr

Blown away by the wind and the cold

A battle is waged on a hillside

The armies are dressed in chain mail

One side is left battered and dying

So...which side will write down the tale?

A submarine sinks in the channel

It's just off the Dover coast shore

No one survives but the story

of sailors we'll here from no more

Villages destroyed by a virus

It spreads through the town really quick

You know that the story gets written

By the survivors who didn't get sick

Pompeii was wiped out, that's a given

A volcano did wipe out the town

The people were burned to a cinder

So who writes, when there's no one around?

In the movies the cowboys and Injuns

All fight for control of the fort

Do the Indians spread tales of their losses

Do they write it all down just for sport?

As years changed the stories came forward

Of the armies and people who died

They were defending their loved ones and country

It's too bad they were on the wrong side.

As time lumbered on to the future

The winners were not just the ones

Who told what had happened that day

They were not just the ones with the guns

Bystanders came and told what they saw

This would change how stories were told

There was now a new player with stories to tell

And the winners did not look so bold

Things now were written that no one did know

Of the other sides battle attempts

They were not heroes or winners but, losers no more

For these writings now made them exempt

They spoke of their battles, their loyalty, grit

To stand strong and fight for their lives

Even though it was futile, they still thought they would win

Thinking only of children and wives

Now history is written as quick as it comes

Television has surely changed that

You can watch things at home on your big screen tv

And you can feel like you're where things are at.

Deception is gone and the truth now is told

In seconds, not years like before

You see things as they happen, and the final result

May shake your soul to your core.

So....now History is written by winners

and by losers as well just the same

And no matter, whatever the story

You now know all players by name.

Regardless of whatever the story

Be it ****** or sports,  games or war

We can now see just how each one has ended

And their honor, and that's what life is for...

If I were watching you now
sat at your lap
desk bare and clinical
like your sharp eyes,
if I were watching you now
I think I would look right into you
and I would see the war scars
that you buried in orderly dysfunction
and raging fits of tidiness,
I don't think you walked away
from those burning screaming
German towns bearing your name.
You ran. you ran hard.
back to your horses and simple fields,
back to a life that was entirely too chaotic
in its gentleness.

I'm drying my face with a hand towel
The smell of you fills my nostrils
And I'm back in the basement again.
Not 21 drunk in her boyfriend's bathroom
But 7, alone in a musty basement.
7, alone in your room.
The smell takes me over
and I have to pretend I can function again.
Pretend the look on my face is only from exhaustion.
That wouldn't be a lie.
Your image in my mind makes me grow tired
and sleep isn't enough to cure this kind of immensity.
Inhaling through my nose
And exhaling from my mouth
I continue to breath you in.
Washing the impurities from my face
while I let you infect my body,
my mind and my entire being.
I must keep it together
Cannot break, you don't deserve this type of power.
My face is dry, so is my pride
I'm tired of wringing the despair out of my bones
and letting it soak-
only to grow roots beneath my feet
and vines on the backbone I have molded for myself
Out of tragedy and abuse and sheet metal
too hard to sink your empathy through.
But enough to let you sink your teeth into.
Break me from memory
rebuild me from the times
you have tried to smother my willpower.
You cannot do this to me anymore

I remove the towel from my face
Look at the person standing before me
Built from nothing but her own struggle.
Rising from the ashes like all the times before.
You are the only form of soldier
a uniform like your smile can wear today.
Give yourself a Purple Heart
you've fought this battle and deserve some honor.
Bruised you may be,
purple has always been your color.
Tragedy has always looked so **** good on you.

Someone who fights for you day and night
Someone who wants to see you soar high in the sky
Someone who risks their life so you can survive
Someone who accepts their fate to see you choose your own
Someone who drops to the base so you can reach the pinnacle
Someone who faces hell so you can experience Heaven
A soldier is...
Not only someone that fights in a war but someone that will do anything for you