A killer on the road.


Young Johnnie waiting to go home.(1992 photo)

Young Johnnie waiting to go home.(1992 photo)

My time in the Middle East.

My time in the Middle East.

(How many more kids will be taught murder and death before laughter and love? If we fight for freedom. Why do the USA become the demons? Please leave Syria alone.  Embargo the country. Send no gun or weapons of destruction.  Send food, water and medicine. Bomb and bullets don’t care who they kill.)
                              Killer on the road

A Iraqi man sipping  his coffee.
He watches the military trucks drive by.

He looked to the sky and murmur a pray.
I will miss you my wife, my children.
He caresses his chest.
He feel the bomb wrapped tightly against his body.

His eyes are sad and he knows he has no choice.
They killed his brothers.
They came to his country and torn it down to rubble.

He believed in a eye for a eye. 
He will be in paradise soon.
Tears fall from his eyes as he think of his wife sleeping alone.

Soldier with M-16 loaded and ready.
He tells his buddy going to be a good night.
Going to kill a few of them damn  terrorist.

His buddy with a bible in his hand.
Pray to survive the night without firing his guns.
He whisper  I pray I make it through the night.
Please lord keep me safe and let me go home soon.

The city is quiet and the soldier are on alert.
The gunner pass the coffee to his friends.
Tells him my eyes are seeing ghosts again.

He watches the morning light began to appear.
He thinks of a mother and father waiting and hoping to see him.
He makes a mental note to call them tomorrow.

A middle age Iraqi man walked down the street in the early morning.
His hands are sweating.

He see two soldiers guarding a government building.

The gunner asked his buddy was the man a ghost in the distance?
He put the bible down and tells him he is real.

The soldier looked at his bible.
Points his weapon at the man.
He raise his hand to halt the Iraqi Man.

The Iraqi man screams out his daughter name and Allah.
Runs toward the soldier.

The soldier aim his M-16 and shoot three rounds into the man chest.

The Iraqi man falls dead.
The soldier goes to him.
Fall and ask god to forgive him.

He open up and see the bomb and photos.
It still don’t bring comfort to the soldier.

The soldier sit on his cot.
He hold pictures of a man’s wife  with two children.
He wonder why he has to kill this man?

He should of been home tossing a football with his brother or something. 

He cries for the Iraqi he killed.
Old Sargent said he was a hero.
Those terrorist are just killers on the road.
Waiting for us to end their misery.

He bring his bible to his heart and tries to sleep.

The gunner wake him up.
He tells him we are on again tonight.

He puts the bible on the table.
Dresses  into battle gear and walk out of his tent.

He leave the bible tonight on the table.

He had bad dreams.
He dreams he was the killer on the road.

He would do his duty and go home.
He don’t talk of God or Jesus anymore.
He just wishes for the blood to leave his hands.

The gunner smile.
He yelled maybe we can kill a few tonight.

His buddy smile and stare at the road.




© 2012 Coyote Poetry