Bang, Bang, Bang!
BANG
BANG
BANG
Goes the gun, as he falls,
the
THUD,
of his body hits the ground.
And the people around,
SCREAM
with terror, they too
fall,
BANG,
BANG,
BANG.
THUD,
THUD,
THUD.
The smoke of the gun,
Flickers with the glint of the sun.
His Wife
CRIES
and CALLS
but everyone is stunned, shocked.
BANG,
BANG,
BANG.
No one knows what to do
the Man, Boss, President
Is Dead!
‘Extra! Extra!’ is
YELLED
from the top of every journalist lungs.
With the headlines ‘What are we to do?’
‘He is dead, Shot, Killed’
They bury his Body, with a
LOUD
and celebratory ceremony.
They all shed a TEAR,
and
CRY
and the shovel
CLUNKS
against the ground,
“What are we to do,
when the President is,
DEAD?”
(2013)
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