Guns Playing with People...POW!
...
Dreary eyed, snatched from dreams; by the window beams clear sun
As digitized alarm tones pound painfully upon eardrums,
The gun gets gripped at once - acting on this verdict to fear none,
He hears one omen only for a moment, so maybe he’ll spare some
If they dare come before him speaking of GOD in a rare tongue
For the rest its square one, returned to dust in a box resting
Plus, he’s not taking checks from cops,
……………………………swearing: “I’ll tear them fucking vests in”
Mothers call him evil for smiting their kin, saying “he aint act right”
Brothers feel the Eagle & share its appetite; his games’ latch tight
Shining in spotlights, prepared to raise more hairs than a catfight,
With indiscriminate aims at the naive, he doesn’t wait for pains to linger,
The hammer cocks back by itself, then the trigger blames the finger
When it maims a sure stranger near his doorstep, the whore wept…
As her left nipple bled, then gushed thus turning the floor red
Two feet fled, yet two weeks later feds trailed some footsteps…
Tore down a door “come on you bastard where’s the guns & goods kept?
Couldn’t find shit hid in the closet, so had the whole damn hood swept,
Protect & serve, hacking his nerves, blood on his shoes, he deserves ten,
Neck on the verge, wrecked by an urge, sunk in a basin of disturbed men
While his supposed friend the Evil Eagle plots in dense undergrowth,
Cold-hearted, muffled - & snub-nosed, so he’ll stay silent under oath,
No plea of guilty,
Son is Scot-free,
9½ weeks later: the Eagle falls tragically into the hands of a teenager,
As Evil feels his grip - a hollow-tip automatically engages the chamber…
POW!
Game Over.
