Homeless Veteran
Stand alone these men of honor, in the shadow of a tree. Wonder you why does this man of honor stand alone. Beneath this great oak; stands a man who stood when others would not. Clothes tattered, as is his mind torn and shredded as he stands. For this is one that heard his country’s call and he did answer.
How be it then no one hears his plea. This plea is not spoken, for his pride is greater than his hunger. He seeks not charity nor a hand out. This man of honor stands waiting; for the remembering. The demons prevent his sleep, his tormented soul sleeps upon the ground. The leaves from the great oak tree are his pillow. The news from yesterday covers him as if a blanket.
Yet people walk by, no offer of help is made, just a scowl and a turn of the head. Uttering words as they pass by, but not loud enough for his ears to hear it. Cruel and harsh are these that have never served. Yet enjoy they do the freedom, and fortune purchased by the blood of these men of honor. These that heard their country’s call with no regard for life or limb. And for this he is called, hopeless and a bum.
Thought of as an eyesore, a blight on the beauty of their city. But I tell thee this that he is a hero. For this man of honor be not lazy nor is he hopeless, nor a bum. His demons may have damaged the mind. But not the soul, his heart still beats with love of God and Country. Yet his name is added to that list of which be called the homeless veteran; and by our shame, the list grows ever longer.
©2009 2011 Words the Windows to the Soul
