If I am ever old and grey
I'll call the children from their play
to cluster round my chair;
and tell them tales about the war
and see their chubby faces stare.
Then, after they have run away
I'll chuckle o'er the tales I've told
Then light my pipe -
and maybe pray
For if the children at their play
were told the truth, we'd rue the day;
they'd over soon be old;
they'd know the ugliness of war
by some loquacious veteran told.
So let them laugh and gambol gay
and revel in the tales they've heard
While I look on
as best I may
19 April 1918
William Richard Torvaney
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/if-i-am-ever-old/
