Wounded warriors wear
Fatigues and strut and pose
With guns in hand for photos
To be sent home to mom
Indicating invulnerability
Before being blasted onto
A gurney and into a
Rehab hospital for years
And years and years;
Formerly tree trunk tough
Boys lying atrophied with
Spindly birch branch
Limbs and sucking air
Through plastic screwed
Into the soft, soft bark
While aging, blustering,
Bombastic voices on a
Big hill don those bloody
Torn and shredded
Fatigues, flash water pistols or
Paint ball guns at each
Other laughing heartily
And talking ever, ever so
Tough to the media.
Thanks Robert … you have a way of reminding us that the Emperor is buck naked and looks damn ugly.