USA teaches the youth death before love. “Killer on the road.”

Killer on the road


Young Johnnie waiting to go home.(1992 photo)

Young Johnnie waiting to go home.(1992 photo)




A Poem by Coyote Poetry


What good and bad we do in a life. The scars will always stay with us. Young men and woman are taught to kill. Watch their friends die, then the USA leave them to try to heal. Different type of death my friend. Murdering another human being doesn’t make you feel clean or right.”

Killer on the road

A Iraqi man sipped  his coffee.
He watched the military trucks drive by.

He looked to the sky and murmured a pray.
“I will miss you my wife, my children. Please don’t forget me.”
He caressed his chest.
He felt 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 fell from his eyes as he think of his wife sleeping alone.

Soldier with M-16 loaded and ready.
He told 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.
Prayed to survive the night without firing his guns.
He whispered a silence prayer . “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 passed the coffee to his friend.
Told him my eyes are seeing ghosts again?

He watched the morning light began to appear.
He thought of a mother and father waiting and hoping to see him very soon.
He made 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 told 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 screamed out his daughter name and Allah.
Ran toward the soldier.

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

The Iraqi man fell dead.
The soldier went to him.
He fell to the ground and asked god to forgive him.

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

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

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

He cried 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 brought his bible to his heart and tried to sleep.

The gunner woke him up.
He told him we are on again tonight.

He puts the bible on the table.
Dressed  into battle gear and walked out of his tent.

He left the bible tonight on the table.

He had bad dreams.
He dreamed 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 smiled.
He yelled maybe we can kill a few tonight.

His buddy smile back and stare at the road.



© 2012 Coyote Poetry