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About This Poem
Old Soldier
Walking past,
I see you
with your clothes from
Goodwill,
shoes that have seen
to many miles,
Weathered face,
and furrowed brow.
And pined upon your chest,
ribbons and medals,
won in some long forgotten
war.
Your stare,
telling me your mind
is still living those battles,
of your youth.
Only when speaking with you,
a moment,
as your face comes
alive.
Letting you know
we care.
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