PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

This job is lonely,

This job is hard,

It gets better,

Just hold on a second,

I need a fill,

*click*

That's what I call it, a fill,

It means I'm loading my gun,

A gun I'm not even supposed to have,

What it also really means,

Is that I'm so bored,

That I need to make up exciting new words for what I do,

To keep from shooting myself,

You're laughing?

I'm not.

I don't want to kill people,

I play this game with them,

I load three bullets in my gun,

A six shooter,

One bullet in every other barrel,

Spin the barrels and close it before it stops,

Then I aim it at my victims,

It's sorta like my own spin on russian roulette,

When I pull the trigger there's a fifty percent chance they die,

There's a point to this so hang on a second,

If a bullet fires they die and I go back into hiding,

If the barrel is empty, like it should be,

The next bullet is mine,

But the barrel's never empty,

There's always another name to add to the list of people I've killed,

It's always the first name that matters,

I had a daughter once, did you know that?

She was beautiful,

She had big sea-green eyes that she got from her mother,

Her mother died, rest her soul,

But my daughter still has that pretty smile,

She also has the curliest brown hair you'll ever see,

I always thought she'd grow up to make boys cry,

She didn't,

She found my six shooter one night,

I keep it in a bedside table in the bedroom,

As I woke one morning,

I saw her pick it up and look down the front of the barrel,

It was supposed to be empty,

But the moment that she accidentally pulled the trigger,

Marked the point in my life that I went insane,

I was hired by all the rich bad guys you'll never meet,

I earned millions making victims of everyday people,

People who happen to go down the wrong alley some night,

And I've played the same game with each of them,

Even up to the one right in front of me now,

This barrel should be empty,

My daughter should be alive,

I should be dead,

I recall my moment of insanity,

As I point the gun at my next possible victim,

This job is lonely,

This job is hard,

I pull the trigger and nothing comes out,

...finally, an easy job.

*boom*