There were things you wanted to do
But I couldn’t let you
I didn’t want to
I had to shoot
Although I tried I couldn’t find
Something else to do
I didn’t want to
But I had to shoot
You pointed your gun at someone
Although
I didn’t want to
I had to shoot
The sword you held in your hand
Had sliced a man in two
I didn’t want to
But I had to shoot
No time to talk or say goodbye
Time to ask you why
I didn’t want to
But I had to shoot
And although I knew
You were unwell
Fighting phantom infidels
I had to shoot
I shouted out I yelled
But you were under
Someone’s spell
And I had to shoot
Catch 22 caught me
And it caught you
Although I didn’t want to
I had to shoot
Nothing else for me to do
Though I didn’t want to
I had to shoot
You shouted blame and called his name in vain
Though I didn’t want to
I had to shoot
You chose the game you shamed his name
Though I didn’t want to
I had to shoot
If you come back from the dead
With hatred in your head
I’ll have to shoot
Again, and again and again, and again
And again and again
I’ll have to shoot
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 5:35 PM UTC
There were things you wanted to do
But I couldn’t let you
I didn’t want to
I had to shoot
Although I tried I couldn’t find
Something else to do
I didn’t want to
But I had to shoot
You pointed your gun at someone
Although
I didn’t want to
I had to shoot
The sword you held in your hand
Had sliced a man in two
I didn’t want to
But I had to shoot
No time to talk or say goodbye
Time to ask you why
I didn’t want to
But I had to shoot
And although I knew
You were unwell
Fighting phantom infidels
I had to shoot
I shouted out I yelled
But you were under
Someone’s spell
And I had to shoot
Catch 22 caught me
And it caught you
Although I didn’t want to
I had to shoot
Nothing else for me to do
Though I didn’t want to
I had to shoot
You shouted blame and called his name in vain
Though I didn’t want to
I had to shoot
You chose the game you shamed his name
Though I didn’t want to
I had to shoot
If you come back from the dead
With hatred in your head
I’ll have to shoot
Again, and again and again, and again
And again and again
I’ll have to shoot
I was thinking of the people who have to shoot the terrorists, in the act; how they have no choice, how I have not heard any comment or read anything about their dilemma. Perhaps there are many different responses. This poem is simply a generic view of the lack of options for the shooter.
