this next poem is about the USA's opperation in somolia.
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Let no man behind is what they said to me,
but i am stuck here,
trapped by my misery.
you see my life do i hold dear,
but nothing do i fear.
my gun is a sniper rifle,
with there life i will trifle.
i raise my gun,
look down the scope,
i see his head,
and begin to hope.
this shot has to be perfect,
or else i will fail,
you see I have ten shots to my avail.
I line uo and take the shot,
i see him drop right on the spot.
i see a friendly jeep comming too me,
another day is what i will see,
i come out of my spot ready to get in,
but i fell a bullet peirce my skin.
Right in the chest not a good place to be.
my vision is going dark i cannot see,
i fall to the ground tring to hold on
to my life that i have lived for so long.
Deaths angel is satanding over me,
oh, no its one of the other army.
he puts his gun up to my head,
he pulls the trigger and now i'm dead.
my chalk finds me dead in my spot,
leave no man behind is what they were taught.