Across the room he sat
With his face hidden
Behind his blue ball cap.
Across the brim of his hat In bold letters dressed in black Were the words, "U.S. Veteran"
He held a glass of whiskey
In his old, rough, looking hands.
His hands were what shaky,
And he sat a little slouched.
But his air was of honor, and self-respect.
Reminding all who saw him
That this man was a proud American.
In the background of the pub
The national anthem played
And if you looked close enough
You could see a hand above his heart.
written by Evelyn Creon
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