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Time passes slower for children.
Of that we all can attest.
Not due to physics,
Nor out of jest.
The more new encounters
The longer the day.
So open your eyes
And have a delay.
When I look back upon the seasons
I see variant ages of myself
Always climbing gruesome mountains
And cursing false summits.
After a real battle you won’t brag.
You’ll teach.
**** with the column
It’s chomping at the bit
**** with the column
Reveal all of its kit
**** with the column
Let the boys become men
**** with the column
You can even bring ten!

Attack from the rear and you’re sure to get hurt:
Smith’s been waiting all day to let that heavy-gun brrrt.

Attack from the side and you must want to die:
Thirty-two split in half, sixteen guns sing goodbye.

A strafe from overhead; you’ll get back more than lead:
Anti-air, anti-tank; to an iron-coffin you’ll be wed.

An ambush from the front; you had weeks to set up:
Frank’s on the comms; in one mike you’ll blow up.

Challenge the mob
If you want in the game.
Whole team’s killed before
And…
They’ll do it again!
military army infantry service combat team squad guns bombs
Our days roll away like dropped coins.
Individual moments are continually lost,
Often never to be reflected upon again.
But the epochs of a full life remain,
Safeguarded by the cushions of our couch,
Waiting for when we are in need of a treat.
With him it’s always this or that.
It’s never this and that and those and these taking them into account.
I don’t operate along his plane.
I pretend to empathize,
But I don’t stoop.
I envy him.
It must be so easy…
To view things as either this or that.
Take a bunch of souls
Some are warped by childhood
And they seek revenge
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