James Abell

Rookie (09/15/1966 / Noblesville, Indiana)

One Gun, One Bullet - Poem by James Abell

Drawing the gun from its holstered seat
feeling the cold steel in my hands
Aiming with precision no time to retreat
hoping for accuracy where the bullet lands
Squeezing the trigger I hear the roar
from bullet traveling past the sight
As the bullet enters the flesh is tore
echoing screams into this night
Dead is the demon that haunts my mind
with one bullet his memory erased
With one bullet I have won this time
and killed the demon I faced.
I feel the warm blood as it trickles down
covering me with an awful feel
'What have I done' as I look around
was it me that I had to kill


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Poem Submitted: Monday, March 6, 2006



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