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Dawn breaks cold and chilling grey
A soldier dreads this new day.
Not the jungle, desert or Ulster streets,
His eyes the cell surroundings meet.
Twelve years for Queen and Country served
now an ex—soldier, eight years undeserved.
His sleep by nightmares haunted, knowing
his service and skills once wanted, like
an Albatross now ring his neck,
No longer wanted at his Country’s beck;
Unwanted an embarrassment to those he served so well,
His country’s reward now a prison cell.
Then the medals, the fine words, the scars some healed,
Mean nothing now his fate is sealed.
He no longer serves so it is deserved,
The country is safe for those he served.
Then the uniform worn with elan and pride,
Now a thing for them to deride.
Still he looks them in the eye,
Because he alone, knows how to die.
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