Colin F. Jones


When we grow old we are passed over,
Veterans of another time,
New young warriors dwell in the clover,
Where once the blood was yours and mine.
We are old men I guess still dreaming,
Brave soldiers fighting distant wars,
Minds filled with the sounds of comrades screaming,
In the steaming jungles of distant shores.
We will pass away like those before us,
Who served their Nation with great pride,
Having done our duty; served our purpose,
For the time has come to step aside.
And in dignity we will age and honour,
The memories of those we knew who died.