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Guns

Guns speak the universal language of love With no cloak and dagger residue left behind But with bullets fired for better accuracy Results usually have bad consequences As if that mattered Triggers are engaged to end life tragically Drawn to their own conclusion In grave compassion to the tomb That aftermath presumed to be perfection If only guns could think rationally As one might assume

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Book: Shattered Sighs