common soldier

The common soldier
Once motherland I remember well often with a patina
of unbecoming sentimentality. I was born there, once
birthplace is a magnet it never loses its charismatic power
even though what I remember is poverty, the endless
struggle of the working class. I have a few good memory
and they too are in a way unbecoming.
There was a war the occupier’s soldiers gave me chocolate
and snacks, they had horses and let me sit on them playing
cowboy; yes the cowboys are universal liked.
My experience has coloured my adult life I’m not so quick in
my condemnation the world is not black and white but has
many nuances; war is not what a soldier wants but at times
he has to fight a war that is not of his choosing but he
has to shoulder the aftermath.