by yellowoftops

All the King’s Men

  Crisp, pressed, clean.
  Each single step falls purposefully.
  He can’t sweat.
  Might break his air of dignity.
  Deep slow breaths.
  He takes this task so seriously.

March, men, march.

  Tie your boots.
  There can be not one mistake.
  This is it!
  Your wife, your child, your life at stake.
  Worry not!
  We face not men but enemies.

March, men, march.

  Cross the sea,
  Nerves chip upon your confidence.
  Look at me!
  But we have hate and providence.

March, men, march.

  Piece of shit
  Worthless bitch
  Sand nigger
  Muj-fuck
  Towelhead
  Raghead
  Shithead
  Haji

  He strikes from protected places,
  We will not strike back,
  He uses our conscience to base his attack,
  We will not become him.
  We will not.

  We will not.
  We can’t.
  We come too close.

March, men, march.

  Victory!
  It’s never yours, but theirs you see.
  The crisp suit,
  The wife, the child, the family.
  Sacrifice,
  A price you cannot understand.
  And the cost,
  Some souls, some lost, fall to the man.

March, men, march.