Chapter 15: Weapons
Using man -made weapons against each other, thinking it proves your manhood. You would have me believe this makes you a man/thug/bad boy because you need a man-
made toy that easily destroys life. As we know it. As I said before, I give thanks to my Lord that I have been given a different perception and won’t fall for the misconception.
I will definitely use it for protection but nothing else. If I must watch your head bust with disgust, I will do so, but know there is no pleasure or treasure in seeing one die by the wayside for transgression committed. But it seems to be used in schemes for accumulating cream-causing screams of terror while shattering dreams of kings and queens.
There is no way to put it nicely. The only way you can get your issue across is being a pistol-packing fool, using a tool of destruction to make people see your way of things. But as I bring to bear this gift of reasoning, what have you to say about your actions as you so easily extinguish life with actions
so trifle, using a pistol or knife? Life is precious and should be cherished. The truth and cold hard fact, while running with your pack of wolves or armies and acting hard, I’m pulling your card. You are not gods, but boys with toys of pain, proving nothing but childish actions, factions, and fractions of what we could be in this day and age as war wages across the globe and the manner in which you choose your aggressions.
While he is watching, you show no shame in your choice. So as I lift my head and words to what I see before me, you condemn yourselves with your actions. You act so hard with your pack, hurting innocent women and children. With weapon in hand, do you feel like a man, when actually, you are being weak and childish? Even a small child can hold and fire a gun. So proven with the news of children doing such things in this day and age. I would think myself being a man constitutes using one’s brain for gain, being able to maintain and avoid any unnecessary actions of discord and cause of pain. But who am I? I am but a fly watching the days go by as I try to explain what I see going awry. I could just cry not only tears of sorrow, but also tears of frustration as I watch the annihilation of life, whether it is of greed or lust, white or black, and red or yellow. To lose a fellow human being to such crimes is disgusting, whether child, man, or woman. It is hard for me to understand how this leads to the claim of being a gangster man or thug or being hard as I pull this card to me. It is weak, demeaning, and childish.