Hard-working, totally committed to the task
Flexible, working for clients, he put in extra hours
Until people distant from the frontline turned their backs
And, ignoring families’ plight, used their powers
He phoned home. His wife lost all hope.
But they limped on, wounded. Not the same; all sad
Confused with it all; deaf even to the messages
From online, real and new friends that got behind
Help! Help! Why us? – A muddle of feelings
Getting organised with job search hoping in time ..
But the family are still calling out and stumbling,
And wondering why the others did this crime
Heartbreak, as birthdays come and hardship bites
As under a sea of poppies, you see us drowning
In all my days, before my helpless sight,
The children look at me, not understanding what went wrong
If in some other reality you too could face
The tears the man and child do cry
And feel how the man feels he has let us down
His morose face, who can’t quite believe what they have done to us
If you could see the travel and effort across the UK
The money spent, the hopes dashed
The obstructions placed, in a way that is not OK
The lack of checking in
My friend, you would not tell with such belief
Based on years of being misled
The old Lie; the Royal British Legion cares for our service people and their families.
Not this one, they don’t.
My favourite poem is Wilfred Owen’s “Dulce et Decorum Est”.
It tells the truth about war and its horrors. It calls on people not buy into the “Old Lie”.
Little did I know that one day I would write a poem using that one as my foundation on the Old Lie that the Royal British Legion care about all service and former service people and their families.
We remain very hurt, bitter and let down.
We will not be defeated.