A Humble Man
I spoke to a gentleman
A few months back.
He told of his innocence
Before Hitler's Attack.
He told me his age
When he signed up to fight
For King, for country,
And just 'cause it was right!
At only eighteen,
He went off to war,
To kill "those Nazis"
That broke down Poland's door.
He flew in the bombers
With England's Air Force.
He fought many battles
And survived, of course.
The Battle of Britain
Stands out most of all.
He lost many comrades
And his best friend, Paul.
His eyes well up,
A tear starts to slide.
He coughs, clears his throat
And regains his pride.
I realise our generation
Is young and naive,
For we don't even know
What it means to grieve.
And the further away
From this page in History we get,
I hope we always remember
The meaning of 'Lest We Forget.'
Not just the words,
But all they entail,
The heroes, their losses,
Their stories, their trevails.
"I hope my stories,"
He said with a smile,
"Didn't bore you, 'cause
We've been standing a while."
He doesn't realise
That a hero is he.
He's just a humble man
With a story or three.
Written By Maureen--Momo125
This message was edited Nov 7, 2007 8:53 PM
