RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: AFGHAN WAR
Mercenaries
Independent contractors
They don’t like to be called mercenaries
They don’t like to be called hired guns
Killers for pay
Have gun will travel
They answer to no one
They have no code of honor
They are torturers and war criminals
They are as old as war itself
So while we extend our forces
To evacuate diplomats allies and soldiers
Shed no tears for the mercenaries
Spill no blood for their safety
Let them find their own way home
One wonders what war would look like
If there were no hired guns
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