THE SALUTE

THE SALUTE

The old Warrior sat at a table alone

He was rubbing scars and nursing a beer

Having been in so many battles and yet

Finding himself alone as he sits here

He thinks of all the causes he defended

The people he valiantly fought for too

And wonders, was it even worth it all

The toll it has taken on him and his crew

For all the skirmishes supposedly won

He didn’t feel like much of a winner now

His old body riddled with aches and pain

The wounds as deep as his soul some how

Then without a word he sat beside him

Another old Warrior he could just tell

And for a brief moment their eyes met

And they knew each other’s secret hell

With scarred hands and a scarred brow

He offered a hand and they both shook

Two old war weary soldiers

Both spoke volumes with just a look

They sat in silence it seemed like hours

Years of pain just melting away

Until he knew it had all been worth it

The great price that they both did pay

And with that his friend quietly stood up

With a nod said what words could not say

Then he sincerely saluted his soldier

Turned and slowly, walked away