Am Gun, Will Kill - Poem by Ima Ryma
I am made in the U.S.A.
Mainly composed of stainless steel,
Stick bullets in me the right way,
Shoot me and get that oh good feel.
I got my first home through online,
Daddy wanting to please his son.
A robber stole me, I was fine.
No attachments for this here gun.
The robber took me to a store.
Boy, the bullets came out of me,
Caused lots of fatal blood and gore.
Tossed in a garbage truck, I be.
So now I'm stuck in a landfill,
Waiting, waiting for that next kill.
Comments about Am Gun, Will Kill by Ima Ryma
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.