Wednesday, 1 July 2015

The Gun In The Man

I found his head first
Lurking in the waste box in shop

Mr Cut-out Gun
Lying in pieces in the scrap box
Blending in.

Grinning with satisfaction
  Grimacing with pain

The pain of separation

The just a little pain of parting..
from the barrel of a gun.

The body lay still 
Beside the head 

But on another level entirely

All a sort a empty

Discharged and dischuffed.

The Assassin..


The killer..


The Grim Reaper..


Of arms and legs there was no sign

Shuffled off
 No doubt

Along with humanity..

 The grace of God

And all chance of redemption.

You can't take the gun out of the man
 And you can’t take the man out of the gun.


Wheels for mobility

 Testify to loss

Half man
Half machine
The cyborg rolls around in pain and disbelief.

Beware the cyborg

 Little person

What rolls around in pain..

Comes around again

 And again.

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