Dumpster Diving for Your Love – Canto VIII
Amidst the turmoil of Moscow, TN's strife,
John Johnson and Willy Willay stood,
Witnesses to the senseless loss of life,
From a misinformed siege out for blue blood.
The Natural Food & Tackle, at the heart of the fight,
Became a ground where bodies fell with a thud;
Families, children, caught in the fray,
Lost their tomorrow to internet's dark play.
The air thick with smoke, the ground gross with gore,
And through this chaos, John's conscience did wade.
He saw, amidst the savagery of war,
A young girl, her fear on full display.
Holding Captain Underpants, scared to the core,
She shook, as around her the madness played.
Two Qs approached her with intent most vile,
Her reading choices they sought to reconcile.
But John, his heart torn by what he’d seen,
Stepped forth, his resolve hard as steel.
“No more,” he declared, his stance keen,
As he shielded the girl, her fate to seal.
“Enough of this dumb shit, this scene,
She is now under my care. Let her read what she feels.”
The Qs backed down, literary vengeance unmet,
And perhaps for John Johnson a new path was set.
The girl, dazed and confused, pointed near,
“But my parents are right over there,” she pled.
John, relieved yet still wholly unclear,
Saw her family waiting, their love widespread.
Yet, his vow remained, steady and dear,
To protect her, a promise he’d not soon shed.
From that day, forged in the siege’s heated glow,
A foolish promise premised upon a young man's woe.
As Moscow’s ashes settled, silent, grim,
John Johnson’s name was sung in revered tones.
A hero to himself, through actions grim,
All haunted by war’s long, echoing moans.
Off to Redding, California shipped line and limb,
Sent off by Q for reform with the little girl in tow.
So many pasts shattered still hope in his heart,
Onto California's sun-stained and tainted parts.
In Redding's confines, an education waits anew,
John, burdened by a deed he thought kind.
His devotion, a mask, now worn askew,
By the girl’s words that echoed in his mind.
“My parents over there” — the words did cut and hew,
For with supposed rescue, freedom only binds.
Ahead, Redding's shadows loomed cold and stark,
A journey to explore uncertainty’s heart.