Metal ravens fly in the black of night,
to avoid the sun's brilliant light.
Eggs of steel drop silently,
when the target is in sight.
The ugly little jesters in their black pajamas
dance with glee all around, while we
bleed and died in the air and on the ground.
The monkey is on the mountain and the
elephant grass is tall, while monsoon mud
covers us all!
Beauty is in the night orchid, but death is in the air.
Beware…beware, for bouncing Bette's are buried
This game is for real, bullets, bombs, Claymores,
razor sharp wire, people, places and things on fire.
Snakes, super sized rats and deadliest of them all;
delayed death…agent orange from the sky did fall.
In the dark of the jungle, silent movement suspicious
and out of sight, Hồ Chí Minh trail is busy again tonight!
The deafening roar of Fifty Two's on darkened runways
night after night. Death in the air, death on the ground,
death all around!
Anger, night sweats, PTSD, and the
boogieman too…gifts of war forevermore!
On and on it goes, indiscreetly devouring the innocent
and guilty alike, thousands by day and night, no end
obviously in sight!
War is its name; no one seems to want to take the blame,
but, blame there is more than enough to go around!
We will just have to wait, till it's all over and see what
Jackie R. Kays
Note: Re-written from a very old poem.
“I am forever honored, for I have marched with heroes!” (jk)