Our Fighting Men Poem by Dave Dunn

Our Fighting Men

Fighting his depression
Scraping by each day
His fertile mind was still creating
Bright art on pavement slabs so grey

On dry days there in London town
By the railings of Green Park
He might pick up a few pounds
And the cents thrown for a lark

If the weather changed though
His work washed clean away
There was nothing for him
How will he eat that day?

Many are the numbers
Many share his plight
Hiding from the world at large
But still there in plain sight

Hundreds once in the army
Are said to walk those streets
What kind of future had they
Imagined they might seek

After their tours of duty
Had lately reached an end
Surely there's some other purpose
For their labours my dear friend?

Credit crunch is hurting some
The squeeze is on our purse
But still I see around us
For so many it is worse

Rhumour
April 24th 2008