ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel
  • »
  • Politics and Social Issues»
  • Crime & Law Enforcement

I Am The Bullet.

Updated on December 31, 2016

I am the bullet
lying deep in a box,
under hundreds of cartons
of yet unopened shells.

In the back of a storeroom
resting snug in the darkness,
in my bright copper jacket
over lead with brass casing
one of life's wicked hells.

Sporting guts of gunpowder,
born and weighed by my caliber
with a mighty large impact,
small hole front,
H u g e wound exit,
flesh exploded, and torn.

I am the bullet
that someday not upon us
fate has slated
to lay waste
"Your dear precious daughter,

But for now I am shelved
I wait here in a carton
filmed with dust
that had settled
long before she was born.

I am the felon
my merits are brief,
I have always been greedy
just a mugger and thief,
whose career has been criminal,
wrought with violence, and grief

Serving my second year,
of what's my seventh sentence,
hard time in a State prison,
for assaulting two women,
beating one of them senseless,
for a purse that contained,
less then twenty-four dollars,
not enough for my pain,
not enough to buy crack,
not enough to stay sane.

I am the felon
who's due up for parole,
in the year twenty-ten,
but I'm making some cash
from my job here in prison,
and I've stashed me a gun
in an oilcloth waiting,
in the ground near my home,
now I'm anticipating
all the bullets I'll feed 'em,
when they grant me my freedom.

Gonna find me a mark,
one with money who's young,
and if she gives me trouble,
then she's gonna get done,
that way there'll be no witness,
cause prison's no fun.

I am the bullet
now spent, bent,
and battered,
removed from the heart,
of a life that once mattered.

I snatched Mommy's love,
from two kids who are shattered,
left a husband whose tears,
on her gravestone are spattered.
I am the bullet
in the year twenty-ten,
that's been tagged, bagged,
and placed in the evidence bin.

Enveloped in darkness,
I am stored once again,
next to hundreds of bags,
holding bullets, mis-spent.

Zip locked into silence
from their tragic events,
years of dust cover them,
but each day more are sent.

There are millions
still out there!!
this is my testament,

"I am the bullet!"


    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    No comments yet.