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A Soldier's Request

General. Sir. That is how you will identify me, Hoorah? I tell you what. I am a soldier But you? You gotta earn your rights To be privileged with such a title. You get me maggot? Fall in line, keep your lips locked. Look me in the eye. See any fear? You shouldn’t, unless It’s in your reflection. You scrounge for this courage, These cajones, that passion to surmount. To get here, where I stand… Here… Can any of you maggots tell me Where here is? Anybody? Are you even listening to me? Where the hell are you going? I never said at ease! Sigh I was an elite, A soldier, A leader. Where here was the frontline. The trenches, the beach head, Africa, Stalingrad, O’ahu. Now, here Is found forgotten, Lost in tragedy, A false spectacle of hope, Leaves me lost in this wicked dimension. Clinches my soul. Bang! Dust cover, flash Dust cover, flash Flash… My senses. Fading. Into this abyss. Leaving me here. A ghost. A spirit. Please… Bury me a soldier
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Written by
ron-peacock-jr
American
Published
Nov 20, 2011
Lines·Words
53·175
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