pure fiction (or is it*)

Cry not for me my country
At my passing swathed in blood
Blood I shed for you
So that in freedom you could live
I was but 21 when the fatal bullit hit
And yes it was no heroes death
As I lay screaming in my own ****
At 21 I was considered old
And looked up to by the kids
But the 7.62 doesn't choose
Who to miss or who to hit
And so to all you brave young men
Who choose to go to war
Do you really want your loved ones
To shed tears over the fresh turned sward