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About This Poem
The Duet
In the midst of chaos oh so pure,
I'm focused and in the bubble.
The target is a little obscure,
but this does not cause me any trouble.
For I hear a beautiful melody,
a duet of death being sung.
A staccato of short burst of three,
a hail of bullets being flung.
To my left I hear the sound of the PIG,
to my right the M-249 Saw.
Together they host a little shindig,
which leaves their audience in awe.
So as this concerto reaches it's end,
the cadenza is a beautiful blend.
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