Ashes and grief

Where I’m living these days is
like a second tour of duty in the Nam,
doing a house to house, clearing
the streets, search and destroy,
every place you go, every day you do it,
winning their hearts and minds.
Lots of those boys, then, was lame honky
motherfuckers but they had my ass
and I, sure as shit, had theirs.
Got so tight over there we breathed
the same air, bled the same blood
and anyone who says any different don’t
know squat. Last time I felt anything
remotely like pain was seeing one of those
suckers get dusted catching a mortar
round, waist high and moving fast.
Shit, when the smoke cleared there
was nothing left but a pair of boots
full of blood, two leg stumps still inside.
Like the man said when it’s over,” it’s
all ash and grief.” Only difference now,
The Man catches your ass, he gonna
lock your ass up. Man coming after me
better had been good and dedicated cause
I’m playing hard to get and planning on
staying that way.