Young Death Stud
And they were told
To be silent.
Be brave and bold,
With soul absent.
Sixteen and so
Fresh faced from school,
Seventeen no
Job save as mule.
Eighteen need mates
To chat the birds.
Nineteen and hates
Successful nerds.
Life lacked romance
A pint of blood,
Weekend war dance
A young death stud.
Just be the gun,
Not the finger.
The crime being done
The thoughts linger.
Copyright © Seeyam Brjmohun | Year Posted 2010
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