Oh My God, how can you shoot my mom?
I love my mom,
Don’t you?
What is the matter with you?
And you’re who?
And you go around shooting beings,
Have you nothing better to do,
You are for a better term, a murderer,
You were starving, yes I believe you,
Look how big I am,
And I eat only grass,
And you were feeding the poor?
Why not slice a piece of yourself,
Or sell the gun, or ammunition,
Or cut somebody’s dick off, or maybe a few thousand,
Your own maybe,
Oh it’s not that, you want to be a hero,
Shooting defenceless creatures,
From a mile away,
Hanging them on what?
That hunting Jacket alone would feed a few,
And then the money to get here,
And the equipment,
And the time,
But in my eyes you are a murderer,
Allowed by law,
I know, did you pay the Senator, or,
Maybe the legislator to write it,
Oh, to many constituents who don’t care?
You don’t’ say,
Name me a few,
They are wearing what?
Anyway, I tell you if I had a gun,
I would shoot back,
Just to defend myself,
This is my land too,©19/03/2017
Ron