My Magic Bullet (poem) by Mark Sebring on AuthorsDen

My Magic Bullet
by Mark Sebring → (All Poetry by Mark Sebring)
Tuesday, October 9, 2018 Rated "PG" by the Author.

Save

Follow Share on Facebook



My Magic Bullet Sometimes I wish that You existed. Sometimes I wish that You were real. And though I know You're just a fable I just can't help the way I feel. So many around me believe the nonsense they've handed down through generations. But not me - I'm far too rational. I care more for Truth than pacification. And I've got my logical argument, my simple proof that tells me so: "If there really was a God in Heaven, then He would have let Me know." (I have no hope of convincing others, but it's enough for me. I know.) But sometimes... Sometimes I wish I had a friend. Someone to talk to when I'm in trouble. When I don't know which way to turn. And this... This is one of those times. You remember that guy I told you about? That guy who's been after my wife? Well... Well, now he's dead. I shot him dead. I put a bullet through his head. As she laid there in his arms and let him taste all of her charms. And yes, it's true . I shot her too. Well, what else was there to do? She was the only one I loved. My precious gift from up above. I did my best to treat her good. I gave her everything I could. And though she knew my love was strong, she was untrue . She did me wrong. She let that bastard kiss her hair and then she let him touch her there. She let him touch her everywhere. It was too much for me to bear. And so I snuck up with my gun and as I watched them have their fun I cursed and let the bullets fly. One in his ear. One through her eye. And then like them, my spirit died. I fell down on my knees and cried. The only one I'd loved was gone. I couldn't face another dawn. My very reason for life was gone and I just knew I couldn't go on. And so I died. Sometimes I wish that You existed. Sometimes I wish that You were real. And though I know You're just a fable I just can't help the way I feel. Sometimes I just wish there was someone to forgive me for the wrong I've done. And for all the mistakes I've ever made. Oh, how I wish there was someone. And sometimes I wish that there was someone powerful enough to undo it and make things right. An omnipotent God able to turn back time to before this thing happened, before any of it started. But, if such a God existed, why would He let it happen in the first place? Why would He be so cruel? We were so happy - me and my wife before that scoundrel came into our life. Why would You give me something so beautiful and then take it all away? Sometimes I wish that You existed. Sometimes I wish that You were real. And though I know You're just a fable I just can't help the way I feel. And I wish that there was someone who cared enough to prevent me from doing what I'm doing now. Someone who'd send me down a Clarence to save me from jumping off the bridge. Because You know as well as I do that I saved a single bullet. One very special bullet. I like to call it My Magic Bullet, full of Finality and Truth. For You see, with this one bullet I can find out once and for all. With My Special Magic Bullet I'm gonna find out if You're for real. Sometimes I wish that You existed. Sometimes I wish that You were real. And though I know You're just a fable I just can't help the way I feel. Mark Sebring (2010) There ain't no God and there ain't no happy ending.

Reviewed by Mark Sebring

Reviewed on November 6, 2019

This poem contains a variation of my unfinished "Death Of A Cockroach" story.

I laid my head on the tracks
secure in my conviction
that no train was ever gonna come.
There's nothing quite so frightening
as a soul laid bare.

Always the conflict between the desire to reveal and the desire to conceal
(the desire for intimacy vs. the desire for security):
I've been candid about many things here, regardless of the risk
(I lay my head on the tracks),
knowing full well that no one reads the things I write anyway
(secure in my conviction that no train will ever come).

This particular poem tells a story, mostly to reveal reasons
why many people wish to believe in the existence of gods
(like "Colours / Colours, Part 2").
But, there is more to its story than may be prudent to tell.

Most Christians I encounter are unable to accept that I do not
believe the Christian God exists, not because I do not want to
(I wish that He really existed, very much), but because I have
honestly examined the evidence and come to the conclusion
that there is no valid reason to believe He does. I refuse to
believe that something is true simply because I wish it to be.

I WILL NOT BE A FOLLOWER! I MUST THINK FOR MYSELF!
Integrity is an integral part of my self-esteem. To me, Honesty is
more valuable than Pacification, Truth more important than Hope.

"I care more for Truth than pacification.
And I've got my logical argument,
my simple proof that tells me so:
'If there really was a God in Heaven,
then He would have let Me know.'
(I have no hope of convincing others,
but it's enough for me. I KNOW.)"