Seeing The world From A Fighter

Warning: Some military vocabulary needed to understand the following poem.

We hear the engine whine, my rio and I
As we're steered onto the deck, ready to fly.
The catapolt's hooked to the wheels of the jet.
I signal the air boss to launch us from the deck.

I can feel every bit of the jet's raw power
As my rio and I climb higher and higher.
Thirty minutes of peaceful flying, my rio checks the radar,
But the screen is not clear, not by far.

"We got an enemy coming in right on our tail."
I try to get behinde him, but the manuever is a fail.
My rio checks the radar again,"We got one on our nine."
I look to the left, dodging a missile just in time.

I see a friendly jet come to our aid.
He takes out our nine, leaving me unafraid.
I perform a high G, ending up behinde the enemy.
I take him down with shots 1,2, and 3.

We head back to the ship, my rio and I,
Flying proud, our heads held high.

We complete our landing, our feet once again on deck.
A civilian would've expected us to be a total wreck.
But we completed our mission as a team,
And to us, that feels better than anything.

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