Our Ups Their Downs

Each time a trigger is pulled,
it’s not only aimed at you,
but its aimed at me,
its aimed at all with
Ears to hear and eyes to see

Each time a trigger I pulled,
The victim has the least effect,

Sure, you’re dead but you had nothing left.

Your loved ones are hurt and crying and
the murderer sleeps in regret.

Each time a trigger is pulled,
Our hearts pulsate another beat,
because if you weren’t kill and
we all lived there wouldn’t be food to live.

Reviews

[Jazz]

Wow, I like this poem. It may be short but it contains a powerful message. I very much enjoyed reading this. Thanks for sharing :)