Yellow Footprints

Yellow footprints

On the concrete

Is where the journey began

For all the right reasons

Transforming the boy was the plan

To escape the demons

With the breath of becoming a man

Every step taken

Bound by an inner sense of honor

Never to be shaken

Restrained never left to wander

Up thru the ranks

Private by day – Killer by night

PFC for a while – A little more pay is right

LCpl for a year -Time to enjoy the fight

CPL who all should fear – For the future is bright

SGT time to have a beer – My career is taking flight

Time has come

For the games that we play

If it doesn’t grow it goes

Raking sand once a day

Countless hours of COD by rows

The range isn’t so strange

Policing brass in the grass

Oh what a pain in the ass

Laced left over right

Underwear folded very tight

Funny never seemed to get exactly right

Field day once a week

Got rid of the stink

Off to the field to perfect our skill

To practice for the kill

No shower for a week

Wish I had become a geek

MREs are not my friend

Nothing comes out the other end

Time has come be on our way

Put our practice-Into play

Carry out – our perfected skill

Doing our governments will

By choice of course

Though all paid the same

Marine, Navy, Army, Air Force

We all play a different game

However, not for a shot at Fame

Eura

Booyah

Hoorah

Aim High

Are our battle cries

Mama, dry those eyes

I can’t tell a lie

I hope I don’t die

The home field advantage is no longer ours

Our opponent holds all the cards

In faraway lands that have left too many scars

For they have no regard

I wish I had moved to Mars

Each step taken is a decaying plank

We have our drill instructors to thank

Just our luck

We got in that god-damned truck

Our confidence won’t be shaken

Of this we were sorely mistaken

In the aftermath we were forsaken

Alas some will never waken

Outside the wire

Is where you feel the fire

Real soldiers have no desire

To be killers for hire

Combat

Is not what you think

Not the glory or fun of RPG’s

Try not to blink

Is a place that boys become men

Some call it hell

Can’t be saved by the bell

Never sure who the enemy is

No standard uniforms

Nor, where they may come from

A kid with a radio control car

A woman and baby over there

A man with a cell phone watching a bit too close as you roll by

You are your own worst enemy

Or maybe they are in the same truck with you

A patrol is long and arduous

Always hot and dusty

Red air looks rusty

Gear smells musty

Armor and weapon and ammo

Weigh you down

It’s a long way back to town

You are damn well thirsty

A convoy

Week or more on the road

Ever felt like a toad

Base to Base

.50 cal Gunner in the turret

Static in the headset

Fuck its hot

A/C is shot

Peeing in a bottle

Open the throttle

Eight hours convoys are too slow a pace

Wish we could win the fucking race

Hated to be in that mode

We always had to talk in code

That’s the good day – all in a day’s work

The bad days are

After it’s all over

Once you are home

There is nowhere to turn

Guilt

Shame

Anger

Frustration

Depression

Withdrawn

To name a few

Things,  most people will never understand

FREEDOM !!!

Comes at a very high price

More need to be outspoken

So, Many like Me Don’t

Come home broken

The journey ended where it started

Running from demons he cant see

Tho that boy became a man!

Author: Max Skinwood

I call a duck a duck, and a spade a spade. I fucking HATE: HYPOCRISY, Political Correctness and BS.. just shoot straight, at least we know where each other stands

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