The Old Gent

The Old Gent

An old gent knocked upon my door
Selling poppies, he wanted a pound
I gave him more
He looked upon me strangely

A young man willing to give money for an event that is just a distant memory
Is this what the world has become?
I gave him the money I gave just like I do every time I see a fellow such as him
To say thank you to people like him and my grandfather

People who had no choice but to fight
We now have a choice and yet we still choose the one that isn’t right.
The world has changed
Or is it still just as strange?

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