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I can feel the sun
Angrily beating down my back.
Sweat makes my clothes
A damp, uncomfortable second skin.
That's not including the other layers.
I also have to wear:
My bullet proof vest
My camouflage gear
My gas outfit
And my camel back
Which has run out of water.
And I'm so thirsty
I try to take a sip
But sand cover the mouthpiece
And scratches my tongue.
The kids glance over
Talking in hushed whispers
While few adults have the
Guts to even yell at me
And curse at me and swear at me
Threatening on how their God
Is going to kill me.
But I can't call their bluff
and I can't tremble in fear
Because I have to sit here in order to
Protect what I hold dear.
And that's the people with no voice
And it's those kids playing ball
It's my family back home
And those against the war.
And they are against it
Only
Because I am risking my life
Or it's the fact that I need to
Shoot that kid charging me
With a bomb and a knife.
And it's not dying for my country
That I fear the most
It's going back to the exact country.
Because hate is no different and that
Still makes me a baby killer
Or a cold blooded murderer.
And I won't argue about what I am
I'm just doing the job
That was given to me by Uncle Sam.
So I will fight for your:
Freedom of speech, your freedom of assembly
Your freedom of petition and your freedom of press.
And remember,
While you're exercising your
Constitutional First Amendment
I'm over here dodging bullets
So you can have your
Goddamn pursuit of happiness.
 Your Missing Period · Wed May 18, 2011 @ 08:36pm · 0 Comments |
