Ode To Bullet

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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