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Paper Targets
You shoot at people as if they were paper targets
Not caring who you kill, maim or injure
Your outrage has been well planned
Not a single bit went wrong
You serviced your guns
Collected hundreds of bullets
Dressed the part in boots, fatigues and body armour
Then made your way down the main street
Calmly walking with guns in hand
Carefully aiming and firing at random targets
One round here, another there
Aiming at chests, necks, heads, legs
But reveling when you shot them in the back
Are you effing crazy?
What the hell made you do this?
A red letter from the leccy company?
Your girlfriend ditching you?
Your dog pissing on your leg?
Nothing justifies your actions
Not even an act of war
For those people you shot were innocent
Not some enemy Russian soldiers on the battlefield
You gunned down a dozen plus lives
Selfishly cutting them short with total disregard
Injuring ten more to varying degrees
I guess your shooting wasn’t so accurate
Or did you maim them on purpose?
Only you know why you did this?
Bringing war to a quiet urban street
Where they’re more used to arguing pensioners
And drunken chavs fighting at weekend
In the space of five minutes you changed everything
Putting this small town on the map
For all the wrong reasons
Including your cowardly suicide
Tell me, did you have any regrets?
Before you swallowed the barrel and blew your head off?
You’re nothing but a effing coward
With a collection of illegal guns…







New Dawn 2971
Nick Armbrister and other authors/poets/writers

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