Seasoned vets
Sweep me to my feet, pleaseAt the crossroads of heavy loads where seasoned vets can meet
Have a slightly crippled seat, a slightly limping cup of tea and let the ignition of recognition heat your muddy feet
And be right at home
Two flimsy flapping soals, two moles climbed out their holes
With a taste for grappling burning coal
Keen on building maces
I think we know eachothers faces, yeah, every little brittle scar
Every littles recess shadowed by the grim shades of prison bars
But tonight I'm talking chocolate bars
Tonight our light is centered landing right here where we are
Flattening my every little scar
Hugging me like a big huggy bear
We shake our hands and say thanks
Rebuilding our masks up
Putting the helmets on, jumping into tanks
And riding out into the battered rough
For another night of fighting and
another lifetime of riding the lightning
Poetry by lou bergs
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Written on 2005-07-14 at 22:03
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