APROXM: POETRY

SEMPER FI

click here to return to "POETRY"


PREFACE: Class assignment, had to read this aloud to some music or sounds. I chose SAINT LAURENT WOMEN SUMMER 2019, timestamped. Anyway it's too blunt a work, forgive the hard concentrated hatred of recruiters. Dope ass rhymes though.



Uncle Sam needs your help,

And who are you to decline,

When the terrorists cells are active,

America wants your ass on the line.

We're fighting for the greater good,

We're fighting for a brighter world,

Ignore the acquisition of oil,

And the corporate plots unfurled.


Ignore it all.

Because it doesn't matter.

Because it doesn't matter at all.

Know what does?

Military paying for your semester this fall.

Paying in the spring and the summer, too.

And they're banking on you to choose,

When you scrape the bottom of empty wallets,

Suddenly you're at war making call outs.


Walk into the predator's den on campus,

And cross some t's, sign away your life.

Straighten up in boot camp, be nice.

Lick some boots, don't you dare cry.

You're a man now. Or a woman, maybe.

Either way you're a soldier in the navy,

Army, Marine corp, doesn't matter.

They'll give you a gun, a death adder.


They'll point to a human and say shoot,

They'll tell you it's righteous to kill.

Or your buddies or your war hero dad will.

Proud of my son, you might hear,

Cause bringing blood brings him cheer.

And bringing bodies is what brings you here.

And maybe you won't question what you're really doing out there.

Maybe you won't remember who funded those behind the Gulf War.

Maybe you won't remember the citizens of Iraq who were scared.

Maybe you won't remember the resources they wouldn't share.

But it doesn't matter, and you'll believe that lie..

Killing the bad guys, saving the good guys.

Drone strike on wedding, 37 Afghans died.


And let's say you make it,

and you end your righteous tour of duty.

You're not part of the over 600,000 that have died.

Semper Fi, to the 360,000 soldiers hit with TBI.

That's Traumatic Brain Injury, just the tip of the iceberg,

A hundred thousand soldiers back in 2009

Diagnosed with mental illnesses and kicked back in line.

PTSD, I'm sure you know what that means.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, nightmares in your dreams.

You'll relive Uncle Sam's will, it'll haunt you with your screams.


Every noise, every sound, every click, every step.

Someone's yelling, someone's crying,

Someone's running, someone's dying,

That's all it takes to set you off

You won't even know what'll hit you

Glad you got the tuition paid,

But what price did you really pay?

You killed ‘em by the hundreds,

For a war you didn't get.

Now Uncle Sam's tossed you out,

You're wrung out, used up, dry

At least you'll have those precious war memories,

Where you'll be forced to remember who died.


Private Miller's dead, slumped against a wall.

Lieutenant Pete's shouting for you to answer his call.

Sweat's beading down your neck, you're feeling sick.

You run through enemy fire, brandishing rock and stick.

Like when you were a kid, like the one bleeding over there.

Distracted, you leave yourself open to an enemy's glare.

And he jumps you with his gun, but you're smarter with your head.

Crouch down, knock him down, aim and fire, now he's--

Nice job cowboy thinking fast on your feet.

By the way his name's Al Assad and he was only 23.

And you're only 22 and you're really just a kid,

But Uncle Sam says shoot and it's his bidding that you did.

Bombs are going off, now here comes the killing debris.

Kids and parents, loved ones, all crushed underneath.

But you kill a few more soldiers, now your mission's complete.

And when you see what you've done, you'll drop down to your knees.


Well it was you or them, you might think to yourself.

But you're the one who came out there yourself.

You're the one who sought glory and heroism,

Well did you find it? Hero? Is it the award on your shelf?

Is it the bodies you laid and families you broke?

Revenge, you might mutter, for your fellow soldiers.

Well sit and sputter, they're taking revenge, too.

An eye for an eye and all our morals die.

Semper Fi