Part time fathers full time assassins

He who pulls the trigger
aims his sights and sees
an innocent just crumple up
or fall out of the trees
is clearly heartless
obviously, a frantic soul with in
curiously devoid of love
and so mercilessly thin
on truth
to set one’s target
on the death
of a sweet soul
who in fact has never
seen him
shows a complete lack of
control
to gain pleasure and to measure
the distance with the eye
and then to pull the trigger
and watch another die
shows a harshness and
unpleasantness
on a downward scale
a moral disillusionment with life
clearly the trail
rankles and so nauseates
onlookers who see
the purity of nature
now bleeding profusely
in the final throes of life
accorded no respect
undeniably, the agony
a little, I detect
of remorse from this assassin
his vileness I deplore
he then reveals amusement
from what now lies before, him
a wolf lies bleeding
turning the foot print red
the trigger happy, high fives
with his mates
and a vulgar thread
he cuts
all craven hearted
stoop, chastened by it all
and where is the humility
as they watch the poor soul crawl
out of sight, its final moments
lost in abject fear
as another bullet misses
but the third enters its ear
its eyes closed then forever
extinguished in a trice
creation has lost one more soul
on a bad throw of the dice
part time fathers
full time killers
degenerating, I
feel now for all mothers
who clearly have to lie
beside these monsters
nightly, and as mothers
wonder why, their partners
are perverted to the extent
that others die
one asks the age old question
when will the partner turn
and take it out on the mother
and then in hell so burn