As I tried to make a killing with my pen

But there is nothing quite as scary, as this quasi-military

Called ‘fatherhood’, that I’m now a soldier in

A 10 mile run before daylight, would be a most welcome respite

From 2am feedings and those diapers sent from Hell

What has now become quite clear, I’m the Drill Sergeant my kids fear

With Iron Hands, a Freezing Glare and Bull-Horn Yell

No jungle maneuver or Battle drill, can quite match up to the thrill

Of taking my troop out on the weekly shopping trip

In tight formation I have them file, there could be an ambush in any aisle

To twist young minds in a hypnotic, destructive grip

Its only when we’ve nearly crossed this jungle, I see that fate has tossed

Into our path a foe that’s hard to beat

The aisle of L’eggs Sheer Pantyhose turns into Barbies and G.I. Joes

To run this gauntlet will take a Herculean feat

To save my team I’ll have one try, in desperation I loudly cry

“Gummy Bears for the first one to the check-out stand!”

They were blinded by their greed and in an orderly stampede

Lined up anxiously with wagging tongues and open hands

My quick thinking was a success, but had it failed I’d hate to guess

At the carnage this aisle’s madness can invoke

‘Toy Feeding Frenzy’ is like a storm, a Texas twister in a child’s form

Once unleashed it leaves most parents dead and broke

Through constant training my Squad has been, finely tuned and disciplined

Guerrilla tactics is their dietary fare

I’m stealthy of foot and sharp of sight, a wraith-like creature of the night

When they least expect it I appear out of thin air

With a sixth-sense I read their minds, or seem in two places at one time

Commanding respect by the fear that I instill

My reward is if they learn, to survive and into leaders turn

Becoming Sergeants with their own Squadrons to drill

 Copyright ©2009 Anthony Hall