No medals for dying

'You deserve them,' she told me.
Aren’t they a reminder of someone else’s pain?
Scars bronze, silver, gold.
Prizes of a battle won, lives lost.

The soldier’s reward at a victim’s funeral,
from which I never leave.
The fallen salute while the survivors applaud.
Each one with an untold story.

Some live for the pride
most live through the pain.
All live with one thread of hope
that all will mend.

People recall war
Through rose-coloured lenses.
Warped romance, clouds moral reality.
Chains of our old beliefs,
swiftly broken by unwrapped secrets.

Each medal I wear is a soldier’s soul
another forgotten grave.
But each day I put them on
is a reminder of boys saved.

Life is too precious to sacrifice
for someone else’s politics.
Honour bronze stamped
displayed proudly on my chest
for all to judge.

One way or another.
Just the thought of saving someone
is enough for me.