Things I had seen in war,
Never prepared me for this;
Finding my son to be something I abhor.
A poof, who could enlist.
A sorry excuse of an arse.
That in my own head, I had disowned
Discovering everything I believed to be a farce
Swirling apologies made as we were stoned…
A bet was placed for sufficiency
One that will haunt the worst of wartime nightmare
Of course the misses is on board. Thanks Nancy.
Not an ounce of self worth will remain; fuckn’ fairy flair
A g-string became the white flag
Far from white in the least. Bright orange is my sentence, fuck me.
To calm my nerves I lit a fag
Thoughts of having to flee
But in the end a bet is a bet, and
So I gathered the fierceness of a sniper
Snuffed the fag under my boot, hand
Fisted on the bag, with the grace of an actor
I bent over to put the food
In the bed of my truck
Allowing my cameo to slip down my bum and allude
To the fact of my indiscretion…fuck!
The orange atrocity now in plain view
For strangers to point and laugh
Judging me for something they had no right. I knew
nothing of what my son went through. War gave me no clue.
War brought a sense of honor
but took my dignity.
Warped my mind
Almost causing me to lose my baby
I love you…my son.
I am the arse… could you ever forgive me?