Dirty work

There he is lined up in my sights
Thinking back to childhood fights
Breath out I now count to three
A gentle squeeze and his killer is me

Slowly i change my hidden position
Death of this man my soul mission
Feeling tear welling in my dusty eyes
Tell myself its stress not goodbyes

Now I await a night time extraction
Laying in my hide feel no satisfaction
Another job done there’s no remorse
If I get back rest then another course

I hear the rotas chopping through the air
As a light explodes up all I can do is stare
The thunderous noise fills my dull head
Crew and all my hope falls down dead

Searchlights criss cross the bleak ground
Vehicles approach i swear there’s no sound
Troops alight from the backs of the truck
This time I know I have finally run out of luck

Do I surrender or give them a bloody battle
Chit chit chit I realise is a machine gun’s rattle
Dirt fly’s up several dozen feet away from me
This is it my only chance left for me to flee

Forcing my self to stand up to a low crouch
Beginning to run as I cannot afford to slouch
Expectation of bullets piercing into my back
My only defence left is a bloody vicious attack

Tossing a grenade in the enemy’s rough direction
Charging towards adjusting my fire for deflection
In front of me a volcano erupts with deadly flame
For this destruction however it’s not me to blame

From out of no where the cavalry finally arrive
This was the point I realised I might yet survive
falling to the ground as they now chase all away
I have to wonder what the politicians will now say

Published by

Jonesy the Dog of Socialism

I am in my 50's (ok 51), I have life challenges but still continue to be a father, a biker, a socialist and a human being. I fight hate and injustice in any way I can. I am me.

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