In a Place Far Away

His wounds are deep, hidden, where no one sees, almost invisible, as his eyes plead. Alone without a home, he lives on the street, another victim, the cold air meets. Stacking boxes, to block the wind, layer after layer, and another night begins. Back alley fugitive, as he rambles for food, once a hero, in these boots stood. Time now his enemy, although once his friend, as the visions come calling, once again. Somehow overlooked, simply cast away, but the number he recites, to this very day. Minds can escape, but only for awhile, as he fondly recalls, those days gone by. Daylight comes, as it did yesterday, but he is stuck in a war, and a place far away.