Bronson Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

The telephone rang loud and shrill,
it was the secret code
that gives the signal for the kill,
for bullets to explode.

The message was a triple beep,
then followed by the gist:
'And miles to go before I sleep',
he had, at first been kissed

then, using mesmerising skill,
she placed him in a trance,
it would forever own his will
for any song and dance.

Hypnosis well can make you do
what you would rather not.
And anyone who says that you
can't be controlled, talks rot.

A killer can be made of you,
we train assassins here.
You're now recruited to the crew,
don't worry, do not fear.

This world is run by criminals,
we need to kill the lot
our weapons are subliminals,
and mercy we have not.