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A personal poem:

Behind the shiny barrel of a loaded gun
Beside the fact of the killing potential
In the led
Into the mind
Eating the flesh
Scarring the soul
My bullets bleed
The clip runs dry
The barren potential
My bullets are gone
The clicking of the metal
The trigger kicking back
The gun's recoil
Reload
God's given talent
Satan's heir
A secluded human
A boy of no class
A boy of no classification
Genocide will come to us
When it comes..
I have to be the one
Now my bullets are gone
My finger is tired
The trigger is still
The gun is silent
Reload
Genocide will come
No one can run
No stopping the fun
No ending the pun
No halt to the only one
Genocide is here
The mannequins will die
The innocent will fry
The lovers will fly
The door has always been open
The frame will burn
The good will turn
The stupid will learn
The lazy will earn
War makes heroes
My bullets are happy