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Once I had a paper gun
When I was young and barely four
I made them with my tiny hands.
With it I used to run around
Chasing my friends with triggered barks
I'd chase them all till it was dark.
We used as bullets tiny corns
For our barks were no more fun.
But corn would not be used alone
When none was left, we turned to stones.
We shot our guns and then we'd laugh
Until one day it fell apart.
Mum called me from the kitchen stall
But like a fool, I wanted more
'Kill one more foe and I'd be done'
And so I sought to fill my fun.
My bullet ran accross the bed
To find my friend against his head.
His mother rushed in as he cried
Her anger plain, her words were vile.
His forehead bled,the stone cut deep
That night I cried myself to sleep.
Yes I once had a paper gun
But since that day, I shot no more.
©AlphaSage
Aloft In Thoughts
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