Goodbye now to the bush
Goodbye now to the bush
and patrols that go on
almost endlessly,
ration packs that never really differ,
the sun rising over unknown places,
death and hardship on unknown faces,
bullets flying past
and rocket propelled grenades exploding,
the stark mad bark of the LMG,
but I wonder how long
this piece will last.
[Reference: LMG => Light machinegun.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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