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September 8th |
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by Rct. Malik Dotson |
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Parris Island, SC July 1998. |
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September 8 will be the
paramount of my pride.
I can already picture my never-ending stride.
Twelve long weeks of physical and mental pain,
They took away everything, even my name.
On June 12, we arrived on a bus,
As soon as they hatch opened, he was yelling at us.
Yes, that night - I sure do recall that night.
It was calm, it was still and full of fright.
We reached the island - it was like an abandoned town.
The Drill Instructor came & said, "Get off my bus, now!"
Dazed and confused, little did i know
This was the same DI that got rid of Riddick Bow.
I then thought to myself, "Lord, what have I done?"
I'd rather be back home, having summer fun.
I left right after school, 17 days to be exact.
I'm now in hell & there's no turning back.
You may think I'm rather young - I'm only 18,
But on September 8, I'll be a United States Marine.
I believe that Parris Island is the land that God forgot,
The sand is eighteen inches deep - the sun blazing hot.
We wake up every morning before the rising sun,
We'd march a hundred miles or more before the day was done.
Everything here is different including those spooky trees,
But nothing compares to those vicious lil' sand fleas.
We asked the Senior Drill Instructor, "Is there something I can
do?"
She replied, "You get three squares a day, my bugs gotta eat,
too!"
If you got caught scratching, then that was simply it...
You got and extra workout on the "beach" AKA the Pit.
I've met all kinds of people from far off distant lands
We came here as stranger, but leave with each other's lives in our
hands.
You can call us crazy, but if you only understood,
We are soon to be a part of a never-ending brotherhood.
We do physical training every other day,
Working hard to build our bodies in the Marine Corp way.
I work hard all day & wait for evening to come,
For then I can rejoice because the day is finally done.
Some recruits are younger while the rest are rather grown,
But we'd all shed tears as we receive mail from home.
On September 8, we will finally escape from hell.
On September 8, the Drill Instructors won't scream & yell.
On September 8, we will finally fulfill our dreams.
On September 8, we'll be leathernecks, JARHEADS,
UNITED STATES MARINES!!!!! |
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