My bullet
is ready
for your head...
Your blood will be red
as I enjoy
MY pleasure.
I'm a hunter, you see,
my trophy to be
on my wall.
Just a murderer
that's all......
George BernardBloodyShaw
_________________________
I see the flash.
My legs crash
to the ground.
Pain sears through my head.
Why me?
Am I dead?
My cubs wait
for their mother to return
.....but this burning,
searing pain
in my brain
stops me from........
........
Francesca Johnson
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem