Used Gun

The people can't hear me 

They use and abuse me for violence 

If I could talk They'd hear me 

Instead they hear the loud echo of screams that shoot out my muzzle

I am more than just an act of violence that you use me for

Put me down I cry and scream  but the cries of death are louder than mines

They hide me in a duffle bag i shall never know why 

they carry me in secrecy and pull me out often  behind a mask

Is this all I am to you? 

A weapon used only to destroy the lives around me

Blood splatters on me but i don’t move unless the person holding me dispose of me 

Dispose of me ? why I haven’t done anything  but stay in place 

While you grip onto my stock not letting go 

Then you pull my trigger and seventeen bodies fall carelessly 

Then i wonder am i only used for violence?


This poem is about: 
My community


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