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honestly it feels like to me kids nowadays are being killed by words, perceptions, appearances, by a war being fought in the streets based on these things. we've pitted ourselves against each other because of these intangible yet malleable things and it's hard for me not to wonder when these feelings began. was it in our ancestors during the ice age, fighting for survival. survival. wow. survival
          - r.i.p to all the brothers who have lost their life because of modern day mankind's perception of- survival
Bullet 2d
the Gun
At You

Blank Range
With it too

A Score
Driving with
A 0 to a 60
Ball Limits
With the
Ball Point

Pen I just
Shot a Brain
I Might've Just
Shocked a Brain

Pending a Life
That I Just Took
I Handed You a Shook
Behind a Silver Lining

A Scuff on the Ink
Written In Red
What Do You Think
Have I Fallen of The Edge

Pulled the Trigger
But Have I Killed
My Opposer or
Another Bullet
Pointed at My Prospect  

Pulped Or Have I Put an End
Too All These Bullet Holes In The Head
It's never mine,
What I've never done;
Never left behind,
I'd never thought,
I'd never find...

Never had a thought;
Never crossed my mind,
Never thought I'd know,
Never thought I'd mind...

Never thought twice,
Filled my veins with ice,
I've never lied,
I've Never died...

But never's fine,
I've never twice,
Played a game of never mind with my life,
I'll never find,

I'm never fine...
Lilywhite Sep 30
I just had a realization. I was just as lonely then, with you, as I am now. The good days just distracted me from the time I held your gun to my mouth.
duncan Sep 26
this body
this temple.
was made for everything but itself.
the pilgrim for the rain to come.
a harvest, not for me but
for you.

eat from me or we'll all starve
but sneak me some bread
if ever you have the chance.


how could i ever compete with a body.

if this shell of a temple is
all thats here, a good bargain but
definitely not worth
the investment.

i still cant believe i
armed the gun
that shot me dead.
i took a knowing wrong turn
and still
barrelled down the road.
Yawnoc Sep 20
Remember the girl with the pretty eyes,
you know the one with the good hair that looked like she came from the islands or somethin.
The one that said
"I'll be your friend",
to the new girl
on the new girls
first day at the school.
You know the little girl
that we use to see
in the restaurant drive through window
working hard
so that she could save enough money to feel a little bit of independence at her age.
The same girl that my daughter practiced dance steps with, right before Christmas break,
in order to perfect the drill teams performance for their upcoming games halftime show.
Yeah that's the girl.................well,
she was killed the day after Christmas. Her life was cut short in an instant 'by her uncle' when he all of a sudden
felt the need to go to his parents house/her grandparents house, at the same time she just happened to be visiting, and shot and killed the three of them. So sad, so soon,  and she was only 17.
ANH Sep 20
I fear that lead incision shattering my skull.
That same poison tradition carried out for centuries before
leaving the disenfranchised with broken homes
and broken graves
to match these broken days.

Executions flash across my screen
day by day
like a sleeping spell
trying to numb my mind to the violence
of trying to live a life.

There is no reason.
There is only bloodshed.
How many are you willing to ****
to protect your pride?

Children's screams land into deaf ears
willing to mock their ghosts with lies.
You still believe the fallacy of the
Freedom of Life
when you're not the one
standing in front of the machine's eyes.

You care more for the machine
than human lives.
One that brings an apocalypse to our kind.

Yet, you never hold the blame.
You blame your victims
for what's happened in their lives
or the state or their minds.

Never that the gunman holds cruel intentions.
Your minds are too fragile to believe
what is truth.

Still bodies lie
With what used to be filled with so much light that
stare in your direction.

And never forget
what role you played
or else they could be
Still alive.
Andrew Oct 2017
The weak inherit the Earth
The meek inherit their lead
Unaware of their life's worth
Until after they're dead

We are hopelessly trampled by a bullet stampede
Inflicted upon us for the wealthy man's greed
They sell us death as a commodity
While we can only mourn solemnly

They are arms dealers
We are harm feelers
They are life stealers
When we can't find healers
For the fatal wounds that end our lives so abruptly
And the man with the gun has no need to trust me
He has placed his faith in Ares
His humanity he failed to carry
He sold it urgently to feel secure
But then his thoughts became impure
For whatever reason he cast a death sentence
He felt injustice and wanted to get vengeance
But to the merchants of wrath
He is just math
Numbers on a graph
They must minimize
With blatant lies

Businessmen will try to create a need for their product
But engendering fear for profit seems like misconduct
Because as the bullets are raining
And the militants are training
Their money is stacking
While terrorists are attacking
Their nature seems callous
When they rely on our malice
They see us as a body count
They see us as simple trout
Swimming upstream to die
So they can eat us
Convincing us we'll fly
With minds of a fetus

The bullet burns as it punctures our civilization
It fuels our bitter spiteful incubation
We sit in the chamber
As they utilize our anger
The rich get richer
We don't see the picture
When gunshots scatter crowds
And the echoes scatter our thoughts
They want the volume to be loud
So we'll forget what we're taught
That our lives are the price of a gun and a bullet
Our paranoid lives become hard to live to the fullest
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