Terry D. Sutherland

A DIFFERENT DRUMMER

A different drummer to whom we march
We haters of grand review
We’d shy from all that’s pomp and starch
And reminisce with old friends we knew

Sometimes we owe a parade for those
Who sacrificed all they had
They had written the ultimate prose
Those words were melancholy and sad

A different drummer to whom we march
We haters of grand review
We’d wear uniforms freshly starched
And combat boots instead of shoes

Sometimes we offer silence instead
For those who never returned
A celebration of life in our head
Remembering lessons we never learned