The Gift
Contributed by
parkman
on
Friday, 18th June 2004 @ 02:17:55 PM in AEST
Topic:
DarkPoetry
|
Happy birthday son, said the father to his boy
Here is your gift, be careful it's no toy
A hunting rifle, of high calibre
Gave him a licence, to go and massacre
Suddenly the boy had power, at his fingertip
As he first shot at bottles, to see how good a hit
Moving on to animals, his killer instinct now released
Thinking about human targets, the ultimate kill for a beast
He made his way to the local park, where parents and toddlers walk
Squatted down within a bush, ready to cause more than just shock
Taking aim through the sight, he gently squeezed the trigger
Seeing her drop, from his single shot, he began to snigger
Firing again another fell, this time a child aged nine
This was easy, like amusement arcade, shooting ducks in a line
He now fired at random, targets cowering, screaming help
Still he kept shooting, maiming and murdering, such power he felt
The squad cars arrived, to this scene, of dying and death
He fired at them, with a sneer, he hated this scum of the earth
They had him surrounded, nowhere to hide, he had no escape
Standing up, he put his hands in the air, this was his final mistake
The first bullet hit him, square in the chest, he felt his body recoil
A second blew a hole in his skull, he fell to the soil
His life had ended just like his prey, only he done it for fun
Who was to blame, was it dad's gift, to his son, his very first gun
Copyright ©
parkman
... [
2004-06-18 14:17:55]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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