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A Soldier's Last Heartbeat

Is genius born and not made?
The mind explodes like a green grenade,
It's time to man expire,
Get the purple heart and then retire.
 
The tank has treads,
Just like my boot,
And I walk and run,
Like part of a troop.
 
A general in a general war,
A general hate,
A general sorrow.
 
No time for peace,
But time for the kill,
Shoot and maim,
At your own will.
 
Invasion,
Battle,
Advance to the trench,
You sit around all day,
Then face a foe with bayonets.
 
The drive,
And the offensive,
A plan to defeat,
Creates the perfect situation,
For a soldier's last heartbeat.
 



©1999-2019 Steve Bujanow

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Copyright©1999-2019 Steve Bujanow, Neocortex. All Rights Reserved.

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