On the GunA Poem by Alfred Kukitzhurry to tone to killOn the Gun On the gun Crosshairs itching for a kill Steep in stillness Steep in silence God somewhere far away Men fall, good, bad all along the eye of kill. Battle somehow slips by purpose Adrenaline rush sniffs a smell You shoot, they shoot War is a rush to judgement. © 2016 Alfred KukitzReviews
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StatsAuthorAlfred KukitzDeering, NHAboutYes, I'm still here. Just jazzing up my about me story. Sorry I don't die at the end. more..Writing
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