"platoon" poems - Hello Poetry

I remember my old grand dad Always wore his Sunday best We always called him "Poppy" It was always pinned upon his chest For as long as I remember He always had that piece of red Tattered, torn, but sturdy In memory of the dead Echoes in his mind of years Images so real I never asked him what he saw His tears...they sealed the deal A silver screen of vintage flicks In his brain of days gone by Of good times with the friends he had Of the days he saw them die "Poppy" sat out on the porch With his beat up Meerschaum pipe He kept it tight between his lips I never once saw it alight He'd stare out in the distance Seeing things from back in time He'd listen to the voices He never quite heard mine We lost him back in eighty three When "Poppy" got the wire He was the last of his platoon They had just lost Cpl. Squire Echoes in his mind of years Images so real I never asked him what he saw His tears...they sealed the deal A silver screen of vintage flicks In his brain of days gone by Of good times with the friends he had Of the days he saw them die "Poppy" went inside himself Never spoke another word He was back with his old friends As free as a free bird Each year he would get dressed up "Poppy" would go out on parade He never, ever left the house The porch was the longest trip he made On the eleventh of November He'd would polish up his boots And at precisely eleven hundred hours He would stand there and salute Two minutes more of silence From a man who didn't speak But his actions, they said volumes They showed that "Poppy" was not weak Echoes in his mind of years Images so real I never asked him what he saw His tears...they sealed the deal A silver screen of vintage flicks In his brain of days gone by Of good times with the friends he had Of the days he saw them die "Poppy" never left his prison The one he created in his head His world was just the front porch And the life that he once led I remember my old grand dad With his poppy, beat by time It would adorn his chest proudly And I now wear it on mine.

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Oct 20, 2013

Oct 20, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC

roger-turner

"Poppy"

I remember my old grand dad Always wore his Sunday best We always called him "Poppy" It was always pinned upon his chest For as long as I remember He always had that piece of red Tattered, torn, but sturdy In memory of the dead Echoes in his mind of years Images so real I never asked him what he saw His tears...they sealed the deal A silver screen of vintage flicks In his brain of days gone by Of good times with the friends he had Of the days he saw them die "Poppy" sat out on the porch With his beat up Meerschaum pipe He kept it tight between his lips I never once saw it alight He'd stare out in the distance Seeing things from back in time He'd listen to the voices He never quite heard mine We lost him back in eighty three When "Poppy" got the wire He was the last of his platoon They had just lost Cpl. Squire Echoes in his mind of years Images so real I never asked him what he saw His tears...they sealed the deal A silver screen of vintage flicks In his brain of days gone by Of good times with the friends he had Of the days he saw them die "Poppy" went inside himself Never spoke another word He was back with his old friends As free as a free bird Each year he would get dressed up "Poppy" would go out on parade He never, ever left the house The porch was the longest trip he made On the eleventh of November He'd would polish up his boots And at precisely eleven hundred hours He would stand there and salute Two minutes more of silence From a man who didn't speak But his actions, they said volumes They showed that "Poppy" was not weak Echoes in his mind of years Images so real I never asked him what he saw His tears...they sealed the deal A silver screen of vintage flicks In his brain of days gone by Of good times with the friends he had Of the days he saw them die "Poppy" never left his prison The one he created in his head His world was just the front porch And the life that he once led I remember my old grand dad With his poppy, beat by time It would adorn his chest proudly And I now wear it on mine.