A picture is worth a thousand words 
Or at least that is what I heard,
As the shrapnel was picked from my skin,
From my face, neck, head and chin.
In times of battle you hear no birds.
A picture is worth a thousand words.
Didn’t die that day but felt like a corpse.
This deployment could always be worse.
Saw my brother take one to the head,
Just another day of annihilation and bloodshed. 
Disabled battlefield conditions by two-thirds,
A picture is worth a thousand words.
In war it doesn’t matter the color of your skin,
Black, white, red or yellow—a brother is a brother, like kin. 
Metal shards pulled from your face,
And from your brother—not a color, not a race. 
Alliance of colors are like drawn swords,
A picture is worth a thousand words.