Point Men by Bill Childers
The following thoughts, put into rhyme, stand the "test in time" for any fighter in any war who has trod the soggy mass of slime and filth to search for that one who swore with threat to wage a fight... but stood not in any mode of courage to wait for it! To those, most of whom paid the ultimate price of sacrifice for his country, I dedicate this poem.
They really were no different...
It was just their time to go.
Though some were better than others,
And some were just... too... slow.
The first time a man had to "go out",
Picking and choosing the path ahead,
That one wished he could have lain "sick",
And, they'd send another instead.
Yet, once one went, got "the feel",
There was something about doing well,
When you discovered the first trap,
The next one would be easier to tell.
There were some guys better than good,
They just seemed to "know" the places...
They could see the hidden, doctored signs,
As those concealed on cosmetic faces.
Yet, there were no games being played,
Life and death were the pay-off here,
And if one grew lax, sloughed off of a mite,
The price paid by those behind was dear!
Point Men... the thought leaves a chill!
Point Men... sent as lambs to the kill?
Point Men... to follow the leader's will?
Point Men... to prepare a victory's yield!
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