The Firing Squad Poem by Zac Plague

Line the gunmen, one by one
A lonely soul in front
About to pay for what he's done;
His one treacherous stunt.

A blindfold covers his eyes
As he awaits his death
'Accept me, Lord' the felon cries
And he takes in a deep breath.

'One! ' the captain cries out
The gunmen load their guns
The felon starts to have his doubts
About the crime he did for fun.

'Two! ' the gunmen take their aim
Only one has the kill
One last breath, its not the same
With the stinging, frosted chill

'Fire! ' the guns go off at once
The felon drops to his knees
A price to pay for stupid stunts
May God answer all his pleas.