Gift from a grateful Government

The M.O.D. regrets to report

He died as he ought

Fighting for democracy.

We return his remains -   

In this bottle his brains

That ached with dreams and schemes

Some teeth, still sound,

That bit your breast and mound

So your sweet head turned

Your mouth made sounds

And all your body burned.

His lips, so fond of kissing

Are missing:

Here is a finger

That once did, loving, linger

Upon your throat and shoulder.

There was, of course, none bolder.

He was a model soldier

As these spare parts attest

We couldn’t find the rest.

So cherish the children of his seed

Who one day may repeat his deed - 

Avenging his evisceration

In the service of a caring nation.