The man sits in his leather chair
Ash tray and lamp by his side
He is all but motionless.
As he smokes yet another cigarette
He gazes into the coal fire
Trying not to think of his time
In the Somme.
He was on the front line.
A bomb went off nearby.
When he lifted his head
He was surrounded by bodies and limbs.
The man went to an asylum
Where he lay motionless.
There was nothing that they could do for him.
He was sent home
And that’s what he did
For the rest of his life.
His wife tended his every need.
The man remained silent.
His life was spent in his chair.
Gazing at the coal fire and smoking.