18 September 2013

Used To Be

Called ‘im a mate once, seemed nice enough a guy; 
turned out we weren’t shy in years, four months in 
age apart, blokes who had been the same places - 
so hitting it off didn’t mean embracing new Worlds 

We’d begun military service back in the 60’s when 
y’ had to; I’d stayed - it was a good perk, that isn’t  
the view others graced regular service with, its an 
affectation was all the bloody nasho’s would say 

N’ neither was he, a nasho I mean, so we’d a bond 
that at least wasn’t a prejudiced view too effaced in 
incongruity to have real meaning - but all of his unit 
would’ve disagreed about who was the real enemy 

And at times so did we; basically petty things were 
an enemy of a status quo which was all too bloody 
obviously someone’s private bailiwick, if’n’ y’ could 
see it as such - e.g., as mine or his appeasement 

So that’s where we fell out. We’d became too used 
to praise having no meaning and didn’t bother with 
civilities - while it didn’t please equally it argued his 
case to be freed any such responsibility 
© 11 September 2013, I. D. Carswell