For The Kill

Every once in a while I envision,
That I’m just quietly sitting here,
As someone is staring me down,
With a sniper rifle and a scope,
And I’m a split second decision,
From an ounce of lead in my ear.
Perched in a tree without a sound,
He pulls the photo out of his coat,
Making sure he has the right mark,
He wipes his brow, spits his gum,
Removes his sunglasses and sighs,
As I stand up and leave his sight.
He looks left as I go into the dark,
His back still shadowed by the sun,
Pushing the envelope as he tries,
Firing blindly, missing wide right.
Some days I feel a little paranoid,
Like he watches every step I take,
I try my best to dodge windows,
So I don’t make it too easy on him,
Like everywhere else that I avoid,
Although nowhere really feels safe.
I change pace from fast to slow,
So he doesn’t figure out a rhythm,
Or exactly what time to expect me,
At least I can tell myself I’m smart.
He moves to a rooftop higher still,
So he has more room to work with,
Everywhere I go now he can see,
He steadies his gun like a fine art,
This time he’s shooting for the kill,
I trip and fall and he can only miss.
Every once in a while now I feel like,
Roofs and trees eventually get old,
He needs to stop and rest some time,
So he has to stalk me in other ways.
He has to sleep one of these nights,
Waiting to kill me must take its toll,
I rest easy knowing I will be fine,
And with one shot he blows me away.

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