Hero - Poem by Matthew Leggett
The worn face slumbers behind cracked rims,
Breath rasps into broken lungs
And leaks back out in a wheeze. A moment seems
To hang like Old Spice, the grim
Realisation that the best has passed, death has come.
Medals wilt above the faded bureau,
Pictures curl in untouched frames
And show a smiling man. Forgotten hero,
Dying alone, on his own
With nothing but sinewy memories, escaped names.
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