They love their guns
They look nice and upstanding
With good respectable jobs
They say' I have a gun
I always use it safely'
They love the power they feel
when someone else
with seeming less stability
uses one recklessly
then they proudly say
'How bad they and how
Great I am.'
Make guns easy it's my right
They cry
because without their guns
what would fluff their ego.
They pound out hate like
a factory. Put cross hairs
on a face. And wait
but they don't wait
long. until they find
that someone out there
that is in pain
and use that person's
sorrow and fear to pull
the trigger for them.
the bigger the crime
the more justified they feel.
because then they are so good
and the other guy so bad
give us more guns they cry.
and make sure of their
danger to us all.
And those of us who don't
agree didn't ever matter
to them anyway..

Lynne FincherSpringarden

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/phallic-steel-by-kay-nickerson/