I wonder if I’ll ever learn
to walk in peace and not to burn?
My life is one defensive shield;
I hold my ground – I cannot yield.
My life was fear – my younger days;
a boy who’s meant for ‘warrior ways’.
My elders had all fought ‘the war’;
old warriors – they knew the score.
I’d fight and die at country’s need,
in the midst of some heroic deed.
At seventeen I’d go to war
but they wanted me to grow some more.
At twenty, when my call-up came
the Hippy world had changed my game.
The Mushies helped my mind enquire;
it made no sense that burning fire.
But still, inside, the boy I’d been
held to my heart and made me keen
to battle on ‘gainst imagined foes;
the only way that young heart knows.
An old bloke now, but it’s still there;
‘the battler’ makes it hard to care.
Deep inside I still fight a war
against that bloke I am no more.
My battle now is to be free
from that bloke I once called “Me”.