http://mausersandmuffins.blogspot.com/2009/03/two-things.html
TWO THINGS
Two things move under night sky
the thing that came to kill, and I
He, released from prison to roam
and I, peaceably headed to home
He carries a knife and drug addled sense
seeing just prey, without defense
I detect movement, intuitive fear
and put my hand to pistol near
Worried, alone in that gloomy blight
above the fear, I prepare to fight
He hears the click of a chambered round
fleeing quickly to hunt safer ground
No predator dares go hunting for me
for I am armed, that makes me free
I holster my pistol and slowly stand down
heading towards home in a dark, sleeping town
For there are two things that will not die
my right to carry, and this night, I
© Brigid - Home on the Range 2009
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