Parade Rest, Rookie
Day app blinks, you freeze—can't even shun,
Roll call rings out, but you're already done.
Chuck Lagooni flexed, then killed his own vibe,
Claimed a Purple Heart for a paper cut—nice try.
You call yourself soldier, but you're just a toy,
Marching in circles, a lost little boy.
Needed my badge, my name, my face,
Just to log in and keep up the pace.
Talk big plans, but you're stuck in your bed,
Chasing medals that'll never grace your chest.
I want real warriors—those who fight,
Not keyboard commandos who ghost in the night.
So salute all you want, you're not in my ranks,
Just playing pretend while I earn my thanks.
Like Em said, you fall with the toys,
But I'm leading the charge—real grit, real noise.