The streets
Are not lined
No emotion or grief
The clocktower
Strikes
A noisy thief.
The hearse passes
Wheels glide by
Farewell to a hero
A final goodbye
People in life
The moment decries
Unaware of his record
Now time it lies.
In a crematorium
Three candles lit
The way he wanted
Simply no fuss
Two simple mourners
Were they bought or sold
The old soldier travels
A comrade in soul.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: August 12th, 2025 01:47
- Comment from author about the poem: there are more heroes than those publicly announced
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Damaso
Offline)
Comments1
Subtle like the object of the poem many acts of heroism go unnoticed and unannounced in this life and as many war heros proclaim the true heroes lie buried on the battlefield unsung. A quiet write about the quiet dead beautiful and a fave
most kind thanking you and much appreciated
You are most welcome
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