To look at him,
you would never know.
That his legs are black as coal,
from standing knee deep in snow.
Frost bite,
a prisoner of war.
The American dream,
is what he suffered for.
He held his head high,
fought without fear.
Shed his share of blood,
sweat and tears.
You can't look at him,
and even begin to understand.
To you he was nothing,
but just another old man.
Show him respect,
he has earned at least that.
For he is covered with memories,
no one can take back.
He carries around his reminder,
underneath his clothes.
He risked his life for you.
I just thought you should know.