Muddled In The Middle Of A Military Coup Poem by Richard Jarboe

As they buried the dead down below,
Who shot first, we all wanted to know,
Even when I was pointing my gun,
I never meant to shoot anyone.

Just over the top of the ridge,
Everybody started shooting on the bridge,
I thought we'd get lucky and just walk away,
But sometimes there's hell to pay.

It seems uncommon for our leaders to commit suicide,
But that was the report even though they lied,
They said our leaders knifed each other with their hands tied behind their back,
And had the gall to call it a fact.

It's hard to know what to do,
Muddled in the middle of a military coup,
Who's the good guy and who is who,
Gets muddled in the middle of a military coup.