Tags
Anti-gun lobby, Australian poet, Irrational fears, NRA, Phobias, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet
There are peculiar people here on Earth,
Who have a fear of nasty pointy guns.
They live in Western lands, and right from birth,
Whenever they see one, they clench their buns.
The mere sight of a rifle sears and stuns
Their brain cells – they will soon convulse and scream:
“A curse on all the shooters and their sons!
Come join with us – we are a trendy team!
We are the virtuous – we have a dream:
It is to rid the Western World of harm.
We’re on the peace train – we’ve a head of steam,
And soon each rifle owner we’ll disarm!”
They’ll ask you nicely – I’m sure you’ll agree
To hand your weapons over – peacefully.
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Good one. The vast majority of those who want to get rid of guns are murderers themselves, sanctioning abortion murder, and being accessories to murder by voting for our Murdercrats.
Dead right.