A story

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A story

A man fires a rifle for many years and he goes to war

And Afterwards,he turns the rifle in at the armory,

and he believe he's finished with the rifle

But no matter what else he might do with his hands,

love a woman,build a house,change his son's diaper,

his hands remember the rifle

 

 

This is my rifle

There are many like it,but this one is mine

Without my rifle,I'm nothing

Without me,my rifle is nothing

 


A story

A man fires a rifle for many years and he goes to war

And Afterwards,he comes home,

and he sees that whatever else he might do with his life,

build a house,love a woman,change his son's diaper,

he will always remain

a jarhead

And all the jarheads

killing and dying

They will always

be me

We are still

in the desert