I can remember in my youth
When my friends and I would
Hunt in our backyard with pellet
Guns in hand and the thought
Of a fat dove we might cook.

The first time I held that knife
And took it out of his stomach,
I never knew how the joining
Of the two could shock me,
I almost let go,
I held on long enough for him to
Collapse, I ran and never looked back.

I had never killed a bird before,
Unknowing how it's flailing wings
Would affect me, so powerful,
Fear in its eyes, I knew he wanted
To live.  

I had never stabbed a man before,
He had no wings to flutter,
But as I ran,
I knew that bird wanted to live,
I feel a guilt over me
When I can't tell if that man wanted
The same.