deepundergroundpoetry.com
Shooting Spree
His finger on the trigger
The barrel wobbles cautiously
My family are the victims
I'm not thinking logically
Bullets of sound, thankfully not lead
Each word pierces deep
Bleeding yet not red
If I had control, I'd stop this madness
Sadly, I don't
And it's all up to him
I'd hate him if I could
I really should,
If it weren't me, I really would.
The barrel wobbles cautiously
My family are the victims
I'm not thinking logically
Bullets of sound, thankfully not lead
Each word pierces deep
Bleeding yet not red
If I had control, I'd stop this madness
Sadly, I don't
And it's all up to him
I'd hate him if I could
I really should,
If it weren't me, I really would.
Published 18th Feb 2016
| Edited 21st Feb 2016
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