“I have wonderful memories of the Army.”
The old man said to the youth.
“Some of them now sound quite barmy,
But some have a basis in truth.
We had adventures in many far places,
And maybe the odd pint of ale.
We endured lots of friendly embraces,But that is the best of the tale.”
The youth enjoyed hearing the stories,
Of the old man who sat at the bar.
He’d heard many tales of the glories,
That the old man told sipping his jar.
Then the youth without malice suggestion,
Asked the veteran, so straight and so tall,
“If you don’t mind me asking the question,
Do you have no bad memories at all?”
The question hung long for an answer,
As the old man sat thinking it through,
“It’s like asking a man who’s got cancer,
What next year he is planning to do?
I treat bad memories, like most of my kind,
As a problem with no end I can see.
I put bad memories to the back of my mind,
But the bad memories just won’t forget me.”