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Assassin's Regime

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Below is the poem entitled Assassin's Regime which was written by poet Julian Miles. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Assassin's Regime

Clouded vision as I wake up early morning. Just before dawn, so the neighbor's still snoring. Got 2 messages from my boss sounding ticked. So, I got up, took a shower, made my self some breakfast. Gave my sweetiepie a kiss and I walked around the corner. hopped into the whip and headed straight to headquarters. Walked into my office, see a folder on my desk. I sit down with a sigh thinking "what the heck is this?" Open it up and I see a name list. Entry one, to my surprise, was a that I'd missed. Now I'm thinking to myself "how heck did he live?" I slipped him with some poison, no devoe or bell biv. My Boss storms in, face pinker than a benadryl. I understood why, Because I'm never known to miss a kill. Says he doesn't want to see my face until he's dead. And swears to God that if I mess that he's gonna have my head. Now I'm wondering as i walk away. The person that I must kill today. The last we met, it was a heck of a fight and without that poison dart, he would've taken my life. Hopped onto a jet and headed for Tokyo. At the hotel, I rolled up some Mary Joe. Choosing my artillary to get the job done. 50+ weapons. Gotta choose the right one. No longer buisness but a personal ordeal. Loading up my guns. It's about to get real. Throw my jacket on and I walked out the door. Made a bee-line to his house. I'm bout to settle the score. Check my watch, it says half past 10. Cut the powerline and it's time to begin. I rush through the house looking for him, guns blazin'. Killed the maid in the kitchen that was wrikled like a raisin. Killed the butler in his penguin suit. Zero witnesses. That's why I had to shoot. 15 bodies not a single one him. Plus I'm on the last room, so things are looking grim. Open up the study and I see him in a chair. Skimming through a book while smoking on a square. Too calm like he knew I was coming.  Tells me "Howdy do. And  this book is so stunning. It's a novel you should take a look at." I tell him "stand up sucka and cut all the crap. Remember Moscow and my little poison dart? You should've never lived. Time to die you old fart!" But instead of  fear, I see a smile on his face. This is where he's gonna perish, so it's rather out of place. He lets out a laugh and he tells me "tsk tsk. Coming at me with a gun is a very high risk." I holster my gun and charge toward the man. He pulls out a strap and I slap it out his hand. Hit him with a right knee, stuck him with a left bow. Gave a roundhouse then he fell to the floor. Kicked him in the side to insure he stays down. Somehow I missed and ended up on the ground. He got on top of me and hit me with a left and right. I had to hurry up because I'm seeing sunlight. So I head-butted him and stumbled to my feet. Hit him with a two-piece, knocked him back into his seat. I pull my nine out then I aim it at his temple. I'm thinking that i finally got him. Bout to pop him like a pimple. I asked "any last words before death, bro?" He says "nothing at the moment, but say hi to Mom though." I tell him surely will and enjoy the afterlife. I start to squeeze the trigger and I tell him "good night." Pop... And my brother's no more. 6 in the morning and i'm finally  out the door. Called the boss up, told him that the job's done. he tells me "head home and you did good, son. Take some days off and take a couple shots of sauce. And one last thing; I am sorry for your loss. And so ends the regime of this young assassin. back to it again after some days of relaxing.

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  1. Date: 12/19/2012 10:49:00 AM
    A belated but warm welcome to PoetrySoup I offer to you this morning Julian. I wish for you the best in your writing endeavors whatever they may be. Hoping you find even more inspiration by reading some of the poetry written here by other poets. Thank you for sharing your writing with us and have a wonderful weekend. Love, Carol