Slept to the sound of gun shots
Woke up to the smoke of grenades
50lbs plus and more carried
to survive the rocky map and terrain
12 hours in, takes cover behind a crooked wall
Rests his body from the challenges set afar
Uses the time to reach down his shirt
For a tattered picture of a wife and two sons
Never forgetting the family who's proud
Of the things he has done
His hands are bloody and his wounds bleed out
Quickly patched it up as there is no medic to send out
The signal from his leader
Tells him it's time to move on
Gathers whatever strength and willpower
Possible to keep going on
Stepped up from the crooked wall
For a second, he called it home
Reminds himself why he is here
fighting for all and those
Who pledge their souls
To a raising flag
On that very morning
As he runs into
an unholy battleground
Of men and women
Who bleed the same colors
Of their national home town.
(Dedicated to my cousin who fights for the US Marine Corp.)
©beesly
B