We all have a right to defend ourselves.
When I was a child, it was with a stick against an imaginary foe.
My stick always shot more bullets than his.
My rocks were bombs that destroyed an army.
I imagined that I always won.
Then I grew to twenty years and now my guns are real.
But my guns didn't kill the people, I did.
Just as I did when I was a boy.
But then I only had a stick.
Guns don't kill people,
But what killed me?
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