The Worst of my Poetry
Author: Jordan Yates

Chapter 13
Take The Gun, Shoot Me Down

Take the gun, shoot me down

Take the knife, cut me out

Blood falls all around

So we start again


Burn a hole, in my heart

Kick a man, when he’s down

Here is when, we shall part

You little heartless freak


Tears and screams

Come all around

But you sleep

Sweet and sound


How dare you leave me?

And just ignore

What the rest of us

Are fighting for?


You’d never look back

So I come from behind

While basking in the warmth of your life

This is when I make up my mind


I take out my gun

And come behind slowly

And the world shatters

But you fall, dully


What, no blood?

No suffering?

Not even a scream

Not even a whisper


But there’s your friends

Who watch us daily

Laugh at what we don’t have

And wonder what we do


I fled from your death

And a “death” it was

What, someone killed you?

Aw, what a shame


I see your friends

Rich clothes shimmering

And when they don’t see

I slaughter each and every one of them


It’s a rich person massacre

There’s much blood this time

What, they were stabbed to death?

What a shame!


People cry, people shout

The police arrive on scene

The news crew videotapes the aftermath

And the bloody tuxes and white gowns


Stole from the rich

Gave to the poor

Stole a life

Gave a lifetime of guilt


Took the gun, shot you down

Took the knife, cut them out

Blood falls, once again

Is this where we wanted to be, my friend?


Ha, you’re dead.


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