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Cold comfort.
He had trained with the best and was proud to be serving,
In the worlds battlegrounds that were dangerous and unnerving,
Parachuted into hotspots and never looking back in fear,
Growing used to adrenaline rushes when danger was near.
He had led a team on many daring missions whilst in Afghanistan,
A great team looking out for each other to the very last man,
With their training and camaraderie many battles they won,
His body finally succumbing to the blasts of explosions and sun.
Alone in the shadows wrapped in a grubby coat cold and wet,
Nervously watching the feet passing, thankfully unnoticed as yet,
He sat thinking of his family and his life before he went away,
Suddenly someone passed, hesitated and then turned his way.
He sat alert and motionless, heart beating fast not making a sound,
When the feet moved away, he saw a steaming cup on the ground,
He looked up and reached out to thank a mother with a young lad,
Who said tearfully, “why is he here mum, he could be somebody’s dad?”
She replied, “I’ve heard he’s a brave veteran like many affected by war.”
The young lad then said, “does nobody try to help them anymore?”
“Unfortunately son when they leave the services some find it tough,
without any support, or a family, stay in doorways sleeping rough.
In many towns and cities throughout the U.K. on this cold Winters night,
There are still too many sick and homeless people enduring this sad plight,
Not always their fault, indeed many by their life experiences are driven,
To this extreme type of existence, when no help in their hour of need is given.
