Pistol

Pistol

A Poem by Allen Skip

Welcome to the underworld child, have you heard of me?

Stumble down the crooked ways, you'll hear 'em whisper words of me

Those people don't talk about me much 'cause it's preferred to be

a necessary caution: they're concerned of me, certainly

Ripples in the time-space continuum, it's occurred to me

Thoughts broken after bolted doors, no burglary

Rhymes misconstrue the sounds of me since nursery

Snuff the nose candy then commence the vapid surgery

At times I belt out violent screams, or maybe just a whistle

Cross the wrong line and I might flash you with a signal

Enterprises entertain my value every fiscal

Got the call of duty diamonds, blood splattered on my crystals

Feelin' made youngin' but my ignorance ain't blissful

The sordid hands of law have carried me, it's official

Foreshadow the mushroom clouds, the snapshot's abysmal

when the only word left to capture me is a...

© 2013 Allen Skip


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Added on February 7, 2013
Last Updated on July 27, 2013