Another cynical depressing poem for ya'll "Insurgent"

"Insurgent"

The streets seem too clear
No open market here
No animals come near
Something is lurking I fear.

Turn down another alley

Hold that fifty tight
Anything in your sights
Be ready for the fight
Insurgents to the right!

Three o’clock!
Terror knocks!
RPG’s go pop!
Time to rock!

Spray that deadly steel
Cutting flesh from head to heel
If they run or if they kneel
With our guns and spinning wheels

Then come the screams

And curses from those we hurt
Collateral damage bleeding in dirt

Men yelling like children
Women screaming “When will this end?”
Kids too damaged to ever to mend
Hatred their only coin to spend

We have seen the enemy
In the face of our mirrors

The day was mild
Our squad feeling wild
But this “insurgent” was a child

How many more were born?
A generation of scorn
For a flag now so bloody and worn

Many fires for the Red, White and Blue
And prayers of death for me and you
Justice will have her due.