Wanna draw a soldier, Toles? Here I am,
Back with all four limbs from Vietnam.
You wanna draw pictures of fighting men?
Just tell me where and tell me when.
I'll give you a pose to impress any viewer,
Your punk arty ass comatose in the sewer.
Like all of your kind you don't have a clue
Who fightin' men are and what fightin' men do.
That you, your kind, you effete panty waists,
With Hollywood morals, metrosexual tastes,
Would taunt a brave warrior's fight for life,
Mock his loss, his pain, deride his strife;
And use his sorrow to support your screed,
With no concern for the warrior's need,
Tells me you are clueless of the facts of war,
You're a cut 'n run, spineless, media whore.
Go to Walter Reed hospital, smug Mr. Toles,
To see those you've mocked, grave injured souls
View wounded warriors with bodies so broken
And think again of the message you've spoken,
So abysmally ignorant, so smug condescending
That even most liberals won't waste time defending.
So Toles it's a fact that your most famous work
Will proclaim you forever as a pitiless jerk.
And Washington Post you're as bad as this weasel
You gave him the forum, provided his easel.
2d Bn, 327th Parachute Infantry Regiment
101st Airborne Division