#warstories
Yea I'm a man.
Never did I lay to rest
Yea I'm a man.
I got up every time I was down
Let you beat me to a pulp
Yea I'm a man.
Lost my brother at war
Lost my sister she's a *****
Lost my father and my mother
Yea I'm a man.
He died from liver cancer
She died from aids
As I walk proud
Every body whispers there goes the child of....
Yea I'm a man.
Never did I cry
When he died
When she left
When they died
Everything I had, the street snatched
I'm a man.
Wore this camouflage and I shot
Every men, women, and children
Came to town and burned the city down
I'm a man.
Taped his eyes open
So he can watch me **** his wife
Pray I said pray
Pray I said pray
I'm a man.
They recruited me
Knowing my troubled mind
Gave me a gun
Said you live or die
Now you are asking why?
You asked me to share war stories
Now don't tell me that's a crime
I was only 18 it was their life or mine
She enjoyed it
Some called for God, some for Allah
When I was done they both tasted the barrel of my gun
Don't question my manly hood
I killed for the air in your lung
I'm a man.
Just don't know what kind of man.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
“Where Courage Finds Its Sound”
***
He walks out front.
Not behind.
Not tucked safe in the ranks.
No shield.
No sword.
Just lungs full of fire
and a tune older than kings.
The pipes scream.
Not for ceremony—
for courage.
For the lads behind him
with blades in hand
and hearts thumping like war drums.
He plays through the smoke,
through the fear,
through the mud that grabs at boots
and the sky that spits iron.
Every note says:
We are still here.
Every breath says:
We do not kneel.
And when the clash comes—
steel on steel,
roar on roar—
he plays louder.
Because freedom needs a soundtrack,
and he’s the first to bleed it into the wind.
May 6
May 6, 2026 at 8:47 AM UTC