On a cold and windy day in June
Ten Diggers got together
Each retired on T.P.I
Their faces tough as leather.
They’d served there time in Vietnam
They were sad men, that’s for sure
They were wounded in the heart and soul
Still hurting more and more
They called this thing “Group therapy”
It was an anger course
Cause each of these ex service men
Had felt their angers force.
Within them it was flying high
The venom was real strong
Each one open to some danger
Adrenaline levels wrong.
The counsellor read a poem to them
Which was wrote by me for they
And me, I still remember it
Like it was yesterday.
Eleven pairs of weeping eyes
Were seen within this room
These words read out were cleansing them
And clearing out their gloom.
The counsellor did join in too
As they all wept together
A counsellor and these aging men
All rough and tough as leather.
And years on later down the track
I’m writing more and more
For I know the worth of simple words
They have value, that’s or sure.