This Is My Rifle

My rifle I hold with a steady hand, 
To fight for freedom and make a stand; 
My country goes where there is a need, 
Though they know that some will bleed. 

When setting foot on a distant shore, 
Prepared for battle like never before; 
Think not of the reason we all were sent, 
Or dissect our orders and what they meant. 

This is my rifle and I shall hold it true, 
My training has told me what I must do; 
I cannot question, I cannot wait, 
I cannot fail or even hesitate. 

In my mind my heart is pleading no,  
In my ear I hear my orders say go; 
If I now advance I will surely die, 
A telegram home and momma will cry. 

What good will come if I take a life, 
What outcome changes by creating strife; 
I wonder what he thinks standing over there, 
Pointing his rifle at me in this hot, still air. 

Does he want to kill me as he was sold, 
A lousy bill of goods like I was told; 
Whatever the reason we both now sit, 
Snared in war’s politics - it’s crock of shit. 

The next time you want us to go over there, 
May I suggest you go fist and clear the air; 
You see neither side wins in any war, 
You’d think we’d learned that from wars before. 

A peaceful warrior is now my calling, 
To end our soldiers from ever falling; 
All you politicians now hear my plea, 
The next blood spilled won’t come from me.