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by Scott Cole Oct 8, 2016
Life, society /
They have no wings on their back
Made of pink satin or white linen,
They don't move with quantum leap
Nor does their outfits ever glisten.
They don't hover above the ground
Or wear halos with beams of light,
They don't talk to us in our dreams
Or suddenly appear in line of sight.
They don't come from the Heavens
Or speak to us with spiritual means,
They don't have no feathers of tinge
That always gleam in ghostly sheens.
They have knapsacks on their back
Made of navy blue or army green,
And they move in groups or teams
In camo outfits that's poorly seen.
They scamper across the ground
Wearing guns and ready to fight,
They go to battle with their peers
And keep the enemies in their sights.
They come from their motherland
And communicate in morse code,
They wear hardhats for their safety
Incase bombs or grenades explode.
But just like Angels they protect us
From any harm that comes our way,
Always having our best of interest
In both everything they do and say.
They're our guardians and mentors
Always stands for peace and love,
While paying the price of Freedom
For their Country and men thereof.