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