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Poetry from within

Pass Out Parade

I am what I am,

I do what I say,

You never can change me,

Myself I shall stay,

From darkness of past, to brightness today,

My life,

One long journey,

That made me this way.

A child aged so young, a knife to his throat,

That day will live on but never to gloat.

A little bit older,

knife changed to gun,

In the back of a Corsa,

You want money?,

Iíve none!

Over the years that followed with pain,

A vicious attack,

Struck part of my brain.

No longer able, to talk or converse,

That dream of a soldier, would never disperse.

Onwards and upwards,

Remember one word a day,

Soon to be two ,

One more each day.

Walk on,

Walk by,

Is the good publics veiw,

But an honourable Sargent,

My potential he knew,

A little while later,

My dream had been made,

As I marched out a soldier,

On my pass out parade!

Ross de Freitas