Colin F. Jones


I rely on naught that is not there,
but on the brothers that I can see,
Not Ghosts who cannot share,
this respect that dwells in me.
If I need some mind-formed crutch
Then I let my comrades down,
For this rifle that I clutch,
helps my mates to stick around.
If I have no faith in me,
In the things I choose to do,
Then I am far from free
and useless to all of you.
For you die if you stand where
Reality divides your hair.