As his dentures upper plate shifted in his mouth
His lisp became more obvious and pronounced
Even his name became harder for his tongue to speak
And God forbid he had to tell you where he lived
All those sixes and zeros almost whistled their way loose
Little children would whisper to their mommy’s ear with fingers
pointing out his scars and his apparent loss of a pound of flesh
There are no disguises such a man can wear to cover his wounds
So one must either wear them with pride or hide them in disgrace
Because no leper colonies exist in modern western civilization
Except those protective dark corridors of a veteran’s institution
And wounds like his are definitely capable of inducing horror
In the hearts and minds of both adults and little children
When seen up close like the shrapnel of any improvised explosive device...
As his dentures upper plate shifted in his mouth
He proudly stated his name for the crowd
Then turned and stood in uniform at attention
Saluting his flag and his country’s fallen
With the only three fingers he had left to his name…

2007 © T Sheridan

Ted Sheridan

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/all-his-heroes-are-dead-in-loving-memory-of-those-brave-souls/