Dear hooded reaper from down the block
Dear disgruntled employee
Dear bank robber
Dear teenage boy with the world on your shoulders
Dear young child wrapped up in a game of cops and robbers
I am not the answer. I am not your friend.
Though my curves fit ever so gracefully in your palm
There is reason for my silence
I am a lifeless puppet without you
Ever since my creation I was only meant for devastation
My shouts can make bloodbaths sound like celebrations
Fourth of July & New Years have nothing on me
My bullets leave bodies shattered like broken glass
White tees turn to swizz cheese paired with the wine of police sirens
You may think you’re man enough to push me
But are you strong enough to cock back the weight of this loaded dream
I put people to bed
The only lullabies are mothers’ cries as they cradle broken heads
So let me remind you.
I am not the answer, and I most certainly am not your friend.
A Cold Blooded Killer