Killing Machine

this poem was written by a friend of mine and me a couple years ago.

I'm used to kill children, adults, husbands, and wives

I'm not the judge of who's the ones to lose their lives

I'm a bringer of death

Have you choking on your last breath

I'm deadlier than the effects of Crystal Meth

I can make a weak man strong

I've been used to protect the rights of those who are wrong

My body is cold steel

I don't feel

People reach for me in war, at a fight, during a drug deal

I'm hidden away, keep me concealed

Wave me in the face of a store owner to get your next meal

Keep me locked in safety, and I'll cause no harm

but let me loose, and I can raise any alarm

house me in your closet, in a supply store, even on a farm

I'm a killing machine, a deadly firearm

I leave people dying, others crying in the streets

continue to feed me slugs and I'll continue to unleash

It's what I was made for, It's not my choice

death rings in the air when I spray my voice

single words or rapid bursts

blood, steel, and death all become immersed

I was made to kill

blacks, whites, it doesn't matter, I murder at will

pull my trigger and watch the blood spill

but yet...I hate what I am, gripped in a thug's hand

or that of a mass murderer, even a member of the Taliban

I become an object of hate, associated with evil

they don't understand people kill people

It's not the gun, we're a simple tool

it's not our fault if we get carried in to shoot up a school

it's what we were created for

when there was power, but humans needed more

cuz honestly, when everything is over and it's all said and done

it's not my fault, I'm just a gun...