Manly musketeers, fierce female warriors,
insignias tattooed on muscled skin,
dressed in camouflage and military boots,
armed with secret codes and full magazines,
strutting assault rifles at the ready,
they set forth from tree to tree for combat
with deer, elk and unseen foes

As children, the G.I. Joes and Janes
shot rubber soldiers, crushed them
under tanks and jeeps in bloodless battles,
defended God and country against
the same bad guys they saw at the movies,
through televised scopes

Children still, in search of medals pinned
on soldiers in real firefights, on decks of ships,
they yearn for parades and accolades,
to be seen, feared and revered for strength,
stealth and courage, admired as
the elite corps of their generation

They have yet to win the battles they lost
on the floors of playrooms, in stadiums,
on the streets and in the offices
where they rarely scored acclaim

It is their time to claim, their right,
their duty, to guard against
the champions of change