In a world raw, regurgitated,
just too violent to stomach,
what options due we half?
Be a sheriff, pack a rod.
Shoot to kill. Aim for the middle,
you might hit the jackpot
But absent badge, and desiring none
neither desiring to hip holster nor shoulder arms,
my bushmaster rifle is Christ compassion.
You may maim and murder me,
but you cannot disrupt
my peace for long.
However, what if
you're a stay home mom,
kids to protect, three little girls?
Pedophiles and sadists abound,
may even reside one block down.
The swamp is dank, dismal and dark,
Don't bluff, be ready, Mom.
Post a warning at the door.
Mother Jumpers will be shot on sight.
Intruders, invaders beware.
This house is armed like you have no idea.
No care you be census taker or Jehovah Witness.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
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