Mission Impossible Poem by Gen Smith

We wake.
The night was sleepless, full of nightmares.
Nightmares with no sound.

We know what the past holds, and what lies ahead.
0500 hours,30 minutes to go.

We recieve a briefing from the General.
He tells us to look sharp and remeber our training.
0515 hours,15 minutes left.

We splash our faces, the freezing waters wake us up.
We'll need to be awake out there, on the battlefield.
0525 hours,5 minutes...

It's cold, short sharp breaths as we prepare for the worst,
prepare for what is to come.
It's time.0530 hours.

Footsteps, a tired faces approach.
And in a hoarse voice with little cheer, We say:

'Hi, Welcome to McDonalds, what can I get you? '