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Private John Kriticos
Across his thin body
There's a towel to help
With the food that falls down
As he's feeding himself
His legs are immobile
And his hands barely work
But he smiles at me keenly
As if none of it hurts
He counts off the people
Being fed by a nurse
And with an honest expression
Says "things could be worse"
There's a plaque in his bedroom
With metals to show
What he did for his country
Seven deckades ago
And the stories were true
But now that he's older
I've seen for myself
My grandpa's a soldier
By: Kyle Ezra Kriticos
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