A/N: I've been having a strangely emotional week (A guy who feels emotions pshh what a nerd right?), so I felt like writing this.
The bullets come barreling out of gun barrels, leaving blood splatters on walls like confetti. There's nothing we can do to stop this mix of noises and men standing ready.
Popping and banging not unlike pink, round bubblegum bubbles. With explosions heard both near and far, the only thing stirring is trouble.
Supersonic shots piercing flesh, slithering hastily into skin. Flurries of rounds flying fluently until the explosions happen within.
Such dumb fun can be had with mad men armed whilst under the sun. Their rampage is loud, and its fury is sparing absolutely no one.
Screams of children heard in small villages as the troops come marching through. The new regime is enforced and its opposers have all been slew.
What did they do to deserve this?
Skulls were being burst like balloons.
They did absolutely nothing wrong, but the commander wants this over soon.
Who would throw such a messy party, only to be the "best one there"?
Proclaiming your "rightful" throne and making all the attendants scared.
They are lesser beings, peasants, beggars, not even human.
But just because they aren't as rich, doesn't mean that you have to shoot them.
What an awful mess you've made here, and the party was pointless too.
Lets hope nothing like this happens too often, or we'll waste too many platoons.
Fights like these are but petty squabbles, nothing but a bore.
But when we bring out the "big guns", they'll bother us no more.
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Short Things
Historia CortaI get bored and depressed, so I write short stories and poems that no one cares about. I put them here, so get ready for some amateur poetry.
