The Ruined Soldier

A poem I published in Rogue Project Leader some time ago. It's based on The Ruined Maid, by Thomas Hardy. Hope you enjoy it!

The Ruined Soldier
With apologies to Thomas Hardy and all the good Generals in DC

"O' Gen'ral, my good friend, this sure does beat all!
Who knew we'd meet up in this Pentagon hall?
And such medals! Such brass! You're a sight to see!"
"O didn't you know I'd been ruined?" said he.

"You left us in camo, your boots caked with mud,
Tired of dealing with sand, heat and blood.
And now you are starched crisp, sharp and shin-y!"
"Yes: that's how we dress when we're ruined," said he.

"At home in the field you said no or yes
And hoo-ah and roger. Such plainness, I guess
Ain't proper or common in this compa-ny."
"Some polish is gained with one's ruin," said he.

"Your hands were like paws then, your face black and blue,
But now I can scarcely believe this is you!
No callous or scar mars your delica-cy!"
"We never do work when we're ruined," said he.

"You said long deployments were bringing you down
And you'd sigh, and you'd groan and wear a big frown.
Now you are chipper and oh-so smile-y!"
"True. One's pretty lively when ruined," said he.

"I wish I had ribbons and bright eagle wings,
A cushy big office in one of these rings."
"My friend - a raw warfighter, such as you be,
Cannot quite expect that. Y'ain't ruined," said he.