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I was a sixty gunner once.
Don't blame me.
It wasn't really my choice,
I had more muscle,
carried twenty-five pounds
(or more)
of belted ammo.
I loved tracer rounds
the best,
they would
light up the night
& you could stay on target
much easier,
especially during
those early-morning
L-shaped ambushes.
You had to
expend rounds quick
because it would not take long
until you became
the next target
during the attacks.
But I was lucky.
I made it back intact,
I survived
a shitload
of missions.
The number is still classified,
I think.
Leave me locked
in the loneliness I
don't mind the cold.

Let these years away
and my own
troublesome ways
wear at my bones.

Like cold ,
black mountain
runoff as it
shapes and wears
over ancient
river stones.
I'm weighed down.
A **** may soon appear,
for the burden of knowledge
is heavy.

I got teeth falling
out.
Some by force
others from rot,
for the taste of
evil is always sweet
to the mouth.

I've carried years worth
of a lazy monkeys issues.
Spent those dark
years chasing the
Dragon away
like a blurred and tired
vision of the night.

I knew she died
in the
spring time but
I wasn't free enough
to mourn her
until the summers sun
burned little of the
pain away.

I've fallen behind.
Shadows grow taller
as my mind drifts
deeper within.

I'm without a compass,
a wind to sail,
a course to set.
Guided only by these
words that fall.

I've yet to be
silenced by the
darkness nor drowned
by the
tears or the hard falling
rain.

I've turned times alone
into times that stay
with you.

When my heart is
like stone.
And when I'm locked away in
someplace that's nobodies home.
That's when the  
magic decides to appear.
The magic that
sometimes ends up here.

All of which
only comes to be
by turning my heavy hand,
heavy with the weight of me.
Far from the bottle the needle and all
that I choose to use against me.
And gently on
to this.
I don't allow the
love laced thoughts or the
hollow haunting depression
to pull me from the task at hand.

I'm moving through the
sad crowds and the
clueless children like
a sharp pain chasing the
comfort of your life away.

They hold out for
love and end up longing
for something more
once the love wears thin.

I formed a kinship
with Death.
A promise so true
the Devil now
waits on me.

As I wait
on something close to
Love to pass me
by again.
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