Sumer, Winter
shine, or rain,
Doesn't matter
its all the same.
Miles are miles.
They have nothing to say.
Littered with sweat;
Haunted by pain
Our backs are broken
Knees begin to give out
Blister upon blister;
yet none fall out
We are to tired to gripe,
so onward we roam
into the night.
For all of our troubles;
all of our plight
Its just another day
that burdens no ones mind.
Thankless tasks
that consume our lives
If only we knew
When we signed those lines.
Birthdays,
Christmas,
Turkey dinner,
Weddings,
and funerals
replaced by miles,
burnt out bodies,
and restless hearts
For What?
We stare at other soldiers
and wonder why,
we alone
are bastardized.
After all,
does god not love the Infantry?
Nay...
****** fools are we
It will never change.
It is
as it always will be.
A few good men
herded
straight to the butcher.
Paraded
like cattle.
Its funny though.
Given a second chance
I'd still wear my blue chord
Standing again an Infantryman.
For all of the ****,
For all of the take
I'd rather be a broken *******
than a *****.
I had some time today and came up with this. Please dont be offended by the last line, its a very common Infantry mentality that I wished to emphasize. If you don't under stand try not to give it much though and pass this poem up.
