Decorations

The old lady said the bandage was a decoration
and was it ever, was it such, yes such an understatement
The veins and wrinkles on hers were decorations absurd
yet the mouth wouldn't go to word

And you yes you, life's parade is great
not needing medals or certificates
What greater war is there than the one to maintain life
This weapon of mass destruction is the aging in man and wife

And the man with the bulging black eye
wore his like a proud hero his cape in flight
The purple heart well pronounced on his face in pain
And the woman who had bitterly paced into the train
boasting a bruise across her forehead

The little girl with a cut on her lips despite her pretending
one can only ponder on how they earned them
And back to the old lady almost excited, almost eighty
her whole face was decorated and what a shrill exchange ensues
when general death approaches the one you are talking to