Ode Of An Old Soldier

He sits all alone, feeling forgotten
Amongst the rubbish in the alley
No one heeds him, no one cares
Another victim that is homeless

If only someone listened to his story
Of how he became a victim of the bottle
So many years passing of living this way
A shrunken shadow of the man he once was

Long ago he fought in the war, fighting proud
Battling for his country, believing in truth
The war was won and the country was safe
But he carried battle scars within his mind

Time has passed and he is one more forgotten hero
Once a soldier wirh honour, now a broken man
He came home from a war, with nowhere to go
Now fighting another war, one he can never win



copyright Chris Smith 2011

Creeper

That feeling, ice cold shivers
Running down my spine
As I feel it watching me
From some unseen hiding place
Ready to reach out and touch

I know it is there, observing
Studying my every movement
I feel those eyes burning
Ripping deeper into my mind
Creeping further into my soul

Maybe this is only imagination
There could be nothing there
No creature within the darkness
Just the illusions of a fevered mind
But, alas no, I know it is there

Sleep takes me, without my permission
At last the creeper will come crawling
To this very bed on which I lay
So it can feast on the terrors I fear
And then, I will awake no more


copyright Chris Smith 2011