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Dodging Bullets

by Jersey D Gibson

They play their own tune,
much like of a bass drum.
The "crack-crack-crack" sound,
you never forget.

The high report comes in fast,
the low just a little slower.
You'd think we were talking about music,
it's strange, but similar.

Most are smaller than your pinky,
amazing the damage they can do.
Like little demons of iron, copper, and zinc,
faster than Speedy Gonzolas.

We've improved death dealing over the years,
accuracy kept up straight and true.
It isn't true, you can't dodge bullets,
do I look like fucking Neo to you?

04/22/2004

Posted on 04/22/2004
Copyright © 2024 Jersey D Gibson

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Amanda L Marron on 04/24/04 at 12:51 AM

you were playin at the gun range weren't you?

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