Mates Just Mates
They grew up side by side two kids in a park
Playing together until the streetlights lightened the dark
Growing as school friends and team mates in football
They had a drink together at the end as their call
They were a bit wild as youngsters will be
Until they joined up wanting the world to see
But war zones aren’t the place to seen
Especially in a dirty war when nothings clean
The IED ruined it all on the spot
And one passed as the explosive ruined the lot
There was colour in the funeral as they laid him to rest
With a white tablet marking his grave at the country’s bequest
But you see they will be mates to the end
And each Friday afternoon he went to drink with a friend
Standing alone with a beer in
the front of the grave
He had the usual drink with a mate toasting the brave.
© Paul Warren Poetry
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