Sunday, August 11, 2013

One Gun Shy of Life

One Gun Shy of Life                                   November 1, 2008

Staring down a barrel, 
A lifetime swirls an eternity 
Before it speaks its peace. 
Oh, but the gun said 
There would be no such thing, 
That life cannot exist 
Now that the motherfucker 
Decided to rape you 
With a visual of possible death. 
With a Viagra hat 
And an empty resolve, 
He had only within his countenance 
To wiggle that gun, 
Calling you, "Mother fucker," over and over, 
So that he may take the money 
And run for a little Lone Star extravaganza. 

That gun owns you now, 
And you don't even know it. 
The natives, those cannibals praying upon you, 
Are all busy at the slot machines, 
Winning every time they pull the lever. 
You're bleeding, 
Not that red shit from where you've cut before, 
But from something deeper, 
Bleaker, 
Within the rusted cages of the mind. 
Everyday is not a play day, 
And Death is not a twin bill check. 
You will see this invisible thing everyday 
Because you're one gun shy of life.

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