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by Fush Moss

March 12, 2017

 

Like untamed, ravenous beasts attacking

a spindly-legged, weak, helpless gazelle,

the bullets tore through their flesh bushwhacking

organs, muscles, and tendons all to hell.

 

Like all the kings horses and the kings men,

our job was to patch humpty dumpty up

for transport, dodging bullets now and then,

never knowing how the warrior winds up.

 

Like the light faithfully shoots from the sun,

we will faithfully complete our duties,

me diligent, using my sniper gun

covering my team’s ass absolutely.

 

This we will always do so that others

may live, both our sisters and our brothers.

Combat Poetry

Quietly ►

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