Allan Fitzgerald

War Hero

He sat stiffly at the end of the bar.

His face sagging and covered in scars.

He thought back on why he sat in this place;

The beautiful woman, dressed in satin and lace.

 

He asked the bartender to pour another drink,

Believing another would help him think.

She wanted a hero, fresh from the war,

With no idea what was in store.

 

She got a soldier, the best there\'s been.

She got his burdens, lingering like bad dreams.

Sleepless nights and enemies in every corner.

She felt betrayed- he\'d forgotten to warn her.

 

One night she was gone- a feather on the wind.

So he sat at the bar, to let the drinking begin.