Gunner Poem by Maurice Rowlands
Gunner
Your eye in the cross hair
Shoot the ones that bring your blood diamonds
It’s only carbon
From a distant galaxy
That little boy
Or little girl
Or mother
They’re only carbon
From a distant galaxy
Dear Gunner
Do your job
And shoot!
We’re all only carbon
From a distant galaxy
We call it The Middle East
We call it Africa
We call it carbon
In this galaxy
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8/28/2026 9:24:08 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
