Old Man
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Belinda Fisher, Grade 7
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Poetry
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2016
The ANZAC parade,
Thinking about the horrific sights he saw
His eye is tragically gone,
His soul is of a proud old soldiers.
His heart is wise and ancient.
He’s remembering.
The sickening things he heard,
The Hellish things he smelt,
The terrifying things he saw,
And how damn frightened he felt.
He wears his medals with dignity,
As the loud symbolic last stance plays.
He remembers yet again the scary war he went through,
And sorrowfully walks home.