I’ll take you down with the pull of a trigger
Cold metal chills my bones,
At the same time sweat drips from my brow.
My steady hand lets me know I’m in control.
I am in control.
It’s the begging I cannot stand, the word ‘Sorry!’
Sorry for what, I think to myself?
I don’t bother to ask, I don’t care.
The final moment at the squeeze of my finger…
I wait for a moment or two, just to see…dead.
I walk through the empty back street. Job done.
Great pay, but job satisfaction? Not really.
And on to the next.