Guns
and bullets
It
never stays in its barrel
The
silence of the night
The
cracking of its sound
When
the cats walk away
The
little rats run out of its hole
Sneaking
to the unsuspected preys
Bite
the hell out of its life
By
the time the cats walk back out
The
rats have caused some damages
The
smell of its presence
The
cats will wait for its show
By
this time the wait will be in vain
The
little rats have gone underground
Leaving
its presence smelling in the air
The
cats wait for the rats to run out
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