by Rob Sanders
My brothers drink too much
Occasionally do drugs or God
They love and hate according to the day and the mood.
We love our wives and girlfriends
And hate them too…
Some nights we sleep like the dead
Other nights the dead don’t sleep.
We dream of Africa, Afghanistan,
the Land between the Rivers and Hue.
Life took us to the Rockpile, the Sandbox and the Far East.
We bled and cried
Hated and Lied
Just to keep our souls intact.
Brothers we are
Brothers we will be