A bullet flies at the speed
Of one death per bullet
When you keep it on a table
It smells a threat
A used bullet smells of hope
And desire of a dead young man
When you load it in a gun,
It feels a victory but not for the body on the river bank
When you wear a bullet in your neck
It tells you nothing
When you sleep with bullets, in your dream
You will see those boots marching
When you make love with bullet,
Not only your virginity
You will lose all your blood
When you read about bullet in the books
You think you can smile and face it.
But mother earth will swallow you
When you face it.
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