The Peace Maker

Skin dark like the night sky after making love to the stars,

I am an artist.

A graffiti artist painting chalk outlines.

I am a composer.

Hear my sweet symphony just before a life is ended.

Even a poet.

Reciting elegies when human clocks stop running.

My work

Is visible at bedsides of death beds and in guilt-filled caskets across the nation.

They call me

The peace maker.

Hold me close and grasp me in your sweaty palms.

See how my body just feels so good next to yours.

I make you feel power-full; or power-less depending on which end of me you face.

But don't stare at me directly in the face; Don't hold me too tight either because i just might,

Blow

Like a fire cracker inside of a bullet proof case, 

I explode at the sight of an enemy.

My song sings silently across battle fields as my heart beats rapidly on the offensive side.

Feel me up with emotions of pain and anger; Then  squeeze me at an adversary,

But be careful 

Because i pay no attention to name tags.

Only, death tags and body bags,

And if you don't aim me correctly,

You might not be on the winning side anymore.

Because losing is not at all a stranger to me.

Whether it be the loss of a life or the loss of the entire game it's

All the same, to me.

But I am the peace maker. 

Even though i keep ears covered and heads tucked below bed frames,

And even though i make fathers, sons, and brothers disappear.

I may take an innocent life now and then,

And i may have killed some of our best leaders or maybe the lesser men.

But I am.

I am the peace maker.

Tears and tacit cries pierce the ears of mourners across the world.

I am a universal concept.

I am the reason you fear walking the streets alone at night.

I am the reason you rot behind mind altering bars.

I am the street corner.

I am the battle field.

I am the dirt road.

I am 

The peace maker.
Squeeze my hand.
Make me sound.

And watch the world around you shatter into pieces.

Like a bullet, kissing the forehead of a glass doll.