Down in the mud,
Under the war-paint and the slogans
Lies a scrawny kid, just out of school, still giddy with the
Congratulations
Enthusiastically thrown on his graduation from the hell of Parris Island.
Enemy? he wonders.
These other scared kids in the mud, the ones with slanted eyes?
Desperate to refocus, he recalls
Evenings at home, and a letter from a girl he thought he once loved,
Condemning baby-killers,
One-and-all, wholesale,
Ranting about justice crushed
Under greedy, gloating,
Murdering military monsters.
Enjoining the prosecution of these accusations, he
Sights truly, prays bitterly, and for the first of many times, squeezes the
Trigger.
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