Maybe the old toad was right,
There really is nothing to be said
As a magpie picks its way along
Crumbling bricks which do little to conceal
Barracks demolished without a fight.
What once was alive is now dead,
Memories echoing like the last chord of a song
Beautiful resonance before they congeal
Revealing the uncomfortable truth that
One day it will be us.
Every moment, proud or painful
Will be forgotten in time.