Hangman’s Blood.

He sat, legs out-stretched;
his drink, known as Hangman’s Blood…
he wore exhaustion…

“I’m a Jar-head, Babycakes…”
blue diamond eyes, a match strikes;
“Of course I still smoke…”

sports bright twinkly stars,
eyes: adorned by shrapnel scars…
lives for deployment…

he carries no clue;
beyond decorative brass…
of how deeply he is adored…

A career Sand-Tank Gunner;
my first Love, look at you now…
I still see so much fire in you.

Go ahead...say somethin'!

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