Poetry: This pain

by Bob Mundle


Blasted

You had me in your sights.

In the crook of your arm, your rifle

Cocked, the trigger fingered, a shot

As you blew me away.

My hands were waving truce

As my body surrendered; falling

Backwards, the air coursing through my hair

Flying, not controlling, where I was landing.

Bang-bang; that stupid song

Bang-bang, and I am gone, rolling

Over and over on velvet ground,

And once the sound,

That shot, echoed to nothing;

All I saw was you closing in, grinning

As my eyes shut; you were muttering

'Good hit: got my prey, now to bag it.'

Now you can boast you

Blasted the heart right out of me.

Forever my pain stuffed and displayed

For all to see, merely one more

Of your trophies.


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