Friendly Fire
Warfare exacts a heavy cost
With life and limb and all that’s lost
Destruction wrought on a geographical terrain
While PTSD rewires the brain
And with insult to injury carelessly applied
The cover up of all, the fratricide
But blood is still red
And dead is still dead
Unintentional wounds still hurt
The dead are still buried in the dirt
I get it, we are all so hastily recruited
The fallout not completely computed
Driven by our own insecurities and fears
Suffering losses that exacerbate tears
Relational conversations deceptively contrived
Resulting in collateral damage; fratricide
But blood is still red
And dead is still dead
Unintentional wounds still hurt
The dead are still buried in the dirt
Enemies gather to insidiously conspire
Unleashing attacks of their rage and ire
But ultimately what brings the warrior to retire
The unfortunate result, of friendly fire
And while the fact is well known
That we are taking out our own
The numbers still climb
That’s the message to my rhyme