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Bang Bang
A poem by Paul White

Sometimes they deserve it, don’t you think?
To have their heads blown off,
To wipe that expression of smug satisfaction off of their faces,
Bang Bang.

Sometimes my fingers itch, you know the feeling?
To stick that barrel between their eyes,
To see their pupils widen in fear, shock and disbelief,
Bang Bang.

Sometimes I imagine the noise, the smell of cordite,
And their blood spraying over the wall,
Acrid and iron rich rivulets of crimson,
Bang Bang.

Sometimes I wished I owned a gun, a big one,
Big enough to rip their brains out,
Smash their skull like a funfair coconut,
Bang Bang.

Sometimes I want to have the courage, the strength,
To simply tell them to ‘Fuck Off’
Point my fingers at their head, drop my thumb and say,
Bang Bang.

Sometimes I want that gun, the Three Fifty Seven,
But I don’t trust myself,
Not in their presence, not when they piss me off,
Bang Bang.

Sometimes I see myself pulling that trigger,
Feeling the kickback,
Watching the fragments of blood, brain and bone,
Bang Bang.

Because, sometimes they deserve it, don’t you think?
To have their heads blown off,
To wipe that expression of smug satisfaction off of their faces,
Bang Bang.
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Violence in Art: The Four Stages of Cruelty by William Hogarth (1697-1764)

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Battle of the Nudes by Antonio del Pollaiuolo

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History of Violence - in the beginning it wasn't so developed. 
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