You march around in your tin-hat,

Tin-Hats.

You march around in your tin-hat,

As if you have the right,

Yet wish for ‘ever-afters’,

When you watch the stars each night.

You wave around your stupid gun,

Hide beneath the guise of duty,

You play God, and Satan,

Yet never see you’re destroying beauty.

The noise is harsh, the barrel hot,

As you rifle bucks to action,

The scream echoes through your bones,

And you witness the full reaction.

The man that now lies at your feet,

Had been a father of four,

And now you’re left to wonder,

Could he, could you have done more.

For every man slain had once been a son,

And every second was a father,

You’re beginning to see the consequences,

But as the bullet tears through your muscles,

Rips open your very veins,

You can only turn and nod sadly at boy behind you,

Looking at his terrified face,

You mutter one last refrain

To the boy with the acne-filled face,

And tin-hat and gun,

You use your last energy,

And whisper, “Run.”

Note: Okay, I realise that was a bit crappy. But I would love for someone to review, Please! Out of all my stories on FictionPress I’ve only received 1 review so far, and that’s a depressing thought. So please, for the sake of my rapidly diminishing ego, REVIEW! Or read my others and review on them, because I think some of them are better. Thanks for reading.