I Am A Reflective Belt Of The United States Of America
I am a reflective belt of the United States of America.
My name is “that fucking bullshit PT belt I gotta wear.”
I encircle the mighty American soldier.
I stand watch in every conflict zone and protect my wearer.
Look down across your chest and see me.
I stand for safety, but more for hate and discontent.
I am yellow.
I am reflective.
I am proud.
I bow to no one!
I am recognized all over the Army.
I am despised — I am thrown in the trash.
I am hated — I am put on last.
I am loved — by E-8s and E-9s only.
I am disrespected — by junior soldiers who have not undergone a lobotomy.
I have fought in every battle of every war since the late 1980s.
I was worn in West Germany to protect against the communists.
I was there in Desert Storm, to ensure soldiers did not get run over by a Humvee.
I was there at the Pentagon on 9/11, in the buttpack of Special Forces soldiers in Afghanistan,
and there on duty above Camp Fallujah while privates guarded their own privates.
The people of Kuwait, Qatar, Iraq, Afghanistan, and Turkey
know me as a banner of total idiocy.
I was dirty, battleworn and tired,
but my soldiers berated me.
I have been burned, torn and trampled
in every country I have been worn by my own soldiers.
But it did not hurt, for I am invincible.
And soldiers who wear me are invincible.
I am proud.
My name is that fucking bullshit PT belt I gotta wear.
Long may I be worn.