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Hear Sarge's Beat Poetry Version of this Poem
in MP3 from his Upcoming New CD!
Click Here to Listen

They told us, "In an ambush you will lose
seven men immediately. The seven in
direct line of fire from the ambush."
They must have done this before.

Creeping so slowly
Through the night,
The jungle around you
Void of light.

Trying to move quietly
Is just a joke
With a sixty pound back pack
And a full sweat soak.

Then blinding bursts
Of muzzle flash tears,
Impaling soldiers
On lead tipped spears.

Panic hits
And then is gone.
You react for a chance
To see the dawn.

You slowly turn
To the ambush side,
Walk in line to it.
Behind your bullets, hide.

Your friends fall down
But you don't bat an eye,
You just keep on firing
As they ascend into the sky.

When it's finally over
Your body count has grown,
As body bags turn buddies
Into guys that you have known.

Loss is worse than fear
Is what I always say,
'Cause fear just gets ya high,
But the loss won't go away.

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