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Rated: E · Poetry · Military · #1981706
A day at the office, if your office is a combat patrol.
How long ’til rest will come
When will the mission end?
Patrol is long and hard
My country I defend

I’ve borne this ruck of sorrow
And drank canteens of tears
All hoping for mission’s end
Along the many years.

I’ve humped and pulled
And bowed my back in pain
I’ve plodded long and hard
And yet here I remain

A thousand miles from nowhere
Along with just my fears
If I die, so far away
Will someone shed some tears?

Someday, someone will lift it off
Someday, someone will take it away
Until that time, I march on
Until my dying day.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1981706