Old Soldier

When the old soldier came
Back from the war
He mistook every one
And every place
His age mates looked
Older than him with grey
Hair on their heads on the moustache
And on their chins.
He remembered the younger one's
By the semblance they bore
Of their own fathers he knew
But had died.

He lost all
About norms and culture
And came home a foreigner
Yet in his own home
He told stories of world wars
Rangoon, Bombay, Pakistan
Were the places of his story of war

Old soldier went on
A hunting expedtion
In the forest the community
Left to fallow
He was not at home with
Exploitation the forest
He grew up to see
Virgin as it was
But when the games were roasted
He opted for the lion share
And that is how the community
Laughed at his ways.

by Tony Adah

Comments (1)

Soldiers lived in a different world when they left home. Time changes everything. Good poem.