A Red Badge of Courage

 

“That’s what you need.

A button, a card,

to prove you’re indeed.”

 

And all I had asked:

“A discount for vets?”

 

I laid down my Key-Fobs,

once hung ’round my neck.

 

“These are called ‘Dog-Tags,’

will they do the trick?”

 

“Oh no, Sir, I’m sorry.

You’ll still need a button:

A little red button,

or a card in your wallet,

which shows, indeed,

you’re truly a vet.”

 

“A card?    A button?

to prove I’m a vet?

Why, with my old age,

I don’t have to prove that?

 

“So what is the discount,

for this anyway?”

 

“Ten percent, Sir,

off that which you pay.”

 

“Waal, all this not’s worth it,

Not worth it, I say.

Here.  Here’s a tip,

a dollar, okay?”

 

“No Sir. Sorry Sir.

We’re not allowed tips.

But, if you so wish,

there’s a donation dish here.

Just sign all the papers

and leave it with me.

Oh! and of course,

I’ll need some ID.”

 

 

 

©2013, Marvin Loyd Welborn

13 September 2013

1.5

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