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Rated: E · Poetry · Writing · #2327530
A memory of the Chief Petty Officer, who ruled the barracks, and about Love's taskmaster.
'Thank you for your time?'
Is that what you say to people
who give meaning to your life?

If that is the best you can muster
it's time to exit the Parade Square
and find a new marching formation.

Left-Right. Left-Right.
C.P.O Victor left me there
making time on the spot
my knees whacking the wall
leaving me bruised and confused.

You don't dare cross
the line assured that retribution
follows quicker than a bullet.

Hell hath no fury...
Hell is a tropical paradise
compared to the infliction
of purgatory cast by the heart
of the sadist behind me.

Yet I persist, determined
to earn that damn respect
but the power lies there
outranking me by measures
I have difficulty to grasp
leaving me feeling low esteem
and inferiority in the scales.
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