Shot with an air gun just to make me run.
Shot with an air gun just for fun.
Shot with an air gun just to see me fall.
Shot with an air gun just because I was small.
Shot with an air gun just because I was weak.
Shot with an air gun just because I didn't speak.
Shot with that air gun couldn't turn to my father
Or mother.
Because the one doing the shooting was my own
Big brother.
The blue water licks the sandy shore
washing away many footprints.
the kids running down the beach make a splash
moms are yelling-kids watch out...
birds follow with delight.
We are having so much fun,
in the ocean water and sun. Look at little Tommy run,
trying to shoot birds with his air gun.
now time to go home
say goodbye to the ocean....
sleep will come easy.
Date Written 9/4/2020
Writing Challenge - Nature, Four in One - Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Constance La France
3 Place Writing Challenge - Nature, Four in One -
Contest Judged:9/20/2020 Sponsored by: Constance La France
SHOT
I think I shot
a hole
through everything
I’ve done
blanked out
heart
of souls
differential
air gun
relentless
scurrying
scraping
clinging
I think I tried
a goal
out of reality
with one
cramped in
odd roles
sequential
long run
relentless
scurrying
scraping
clinging
© Kim van Breda
"Encyclopedia of an villainous Air Gun"
with platelets of debasing who
a disastrous leg pining, has set me a fire
bring a distasteful villainous villain of rifling, death
SHOW your self
you DEVIL
do you know, could you care
you have raped my soul
of its last remaining grips on proper living sanity
so i do not cry on the outside
but weep, in wanting of revenge
SHOW your self
I demand it of you
SHOW your self
you half human unsettling rotten man thing
for you have brought my leg
to it painful mourning
and yet i dare not go to Dr. Arzt (Dr. Doctor is in German)
because he has never find my sass (ass) to my eyebrow
and so now i say
come not to my grave
with tear in hand
but know, it was by your, rose colored glass
that I live and die in your
guns and rose-watered world
demand justice for all~
Scots teenager
Air gun
Rabbits and Ducks
Gunned down for the fun
Then there came a day
When this boy and gun
No longer desired
This type of fun
A programme he watched
On a TV channel
A guy called Attenborough
Truth, no flannel
His care for the animals
Left me ashamed
Of all the Ducks and Rabbits
I injured and maimed
He opened my eyes
In such a way
I can't kill a fly
Not even with spray
And over the years
And the places he's been
What he has brought me
To my Television screen
Madagascar Lemurs
Yaks from Nepal
Amazing Amazonia
Glorious them all
My respect for him
Prompted me
Two lines in my poem
" My Dinner Table " for thee
There are not many people
I crave to meet
But this Gentleman Attenborough
I'll shake his hand as we greet
" Honoured to be in Christopher Higgins contest "
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