Guns don't kill people
The finger that pulls the trigger does
Bullets flying into the masses
Masks and facades blown clean away
back into the shadows, where backs are turned black
Till the train of thought put you back on track
bullets are accompanied with teardrops, falling in the rhythm of hiphop
form like conception in triple darkness
grown through cracks in concrete banners
but some get lost under the pavement
so live everyday like it is your last
not letting one minute or second pass
look towards the approaching moments
without losing the beauty of this one
make sure your success is cooked, well done
...I like cookies
I haven't read any of this poem
So I have no idea what its about
the only Idea I have is that man is only as powerful as the idea behind him
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