It was many years ago,
But the image still remains crystal clear.
The war was not a pleasant sight to see,
And it often draws a tear.

I was just another name to my country,
Fighting for a cause that may never be won.
I stood by my new brothers,
Willing to die to save the life of one.

Before I made this foreign place my home,
My time was over and my name was called.
I was allowed to leave that awful place,
And the remembrance of my fallen comrades made me bawl.

I returned home to an empty airfield.
No one was there to give me praise,
Or tell me that I made a difference.
This lack of appreciation left me in a daze.

My family welcomed me with open arms,
And once again it was peaceful at home.
I did not bring too many words to any conversation,
Feeling as if I had been left alone.

My family faded away.
One by one they had given up this life for the next.
They did not have a choice,
But I believed they could have left me a letter or some kind of text.

I was in and out of jobs,
Looking for a way to get by.
Unpaid bills forced me from my home,
And now I sit out in the rain, trying to stay dry.

I see the faces of all the people I once fought for,
As I hold up my cardboard sign.
They pass me by, one by one,
Some of them avoiding eye contact with a simple sigh.



I gave up my life for Uncle Sam.
Now he leaves me out in the cold,
With my torn and tattered clothes.
I have no comfort, as I turn grey and grow old.

Now I wait under this bridge for your helping hand,
But I sit quietly, my body achy and sore.
You avoid me at all cost, leaving me at an all time low.
What do I have to live for?