SONG OF THE BULLET

[I would rather not have

written this -but I did]

I have no home, no child and no wife:
My gun is my friend, the bullet my life.
Of no race and no faith, no hope and no creed,
With terror my style and money my need.
I kill without passion, I shoot without thought,
My gun is my friend, and my friend can be bought.
Pay me, I kill, no remorse and no sorrow.
If someone else pays me, I'll kill you tomorrow.
No wondering child will stand by my knee
With questioning eyes I do not want to see.
I was born into terror and nurtured in hate,
So my gun is my child and my kin and my mate.
One wish I have: that I shall not see
The path of the bullet that's coming for me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~