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 fecking crazy?
What the feck made you do this?
from New Dawn 2971
Nick Armbrister and other authors/poets/writers
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