Bang Bang

Bang Bang

 

Bullets in his pockets

Puss in his head

Drove him forward

Like a hungry beast

Starving for death

Drooling like a domestic pet

Waiting to be fed

 

Pressing the clutch

He speeded up

More gas more gas

Be not afraid to accelerate!

Inconspicuous he was

On an now-infamous Westminster Bridge

Until bang bang

He crushed passers-by

Catching a rainy morning slush

Bang bang

He crushed them dead

But did not have enough

 

He got out

That Khalid Masood

Instead of the gun

He satisfied himself with a knife

He lunged towards the police guard

He trod heavily 

Along a silent Big Ben

On the pavement lining the Parliament

Alongside incredulous tourists' gasping

Fuelling his livid state

His fit growing and growing

Like this poem's length and width 

Like these pitying thoughts 

About not being able to

To turn the tables

By singing the Adele's anthem!

 

Until bang bang

He was shot down

Bang bang 

He was shot dead

With one precise aim...

 

...Grieving and mourning are

Flowing 

In the river Thames

And cold blood of the press

Is slowly ticking off a new date

Of yet another terrorist event