So help me bullets I will meet my maker
So help me gun I will have justice as made
By me.
So help me wounded as your blood
Is leaking on the thirsty streets
Unjust.
Battle worn help me as I am lost and found
In empty shells. I swore it all to you - -
Liar.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem