The Gun That Killed Lennon
by Steven Michael Pape, 2010
The gun that killed Lennon,
Discarded in a New York street
A torn Catcher In The Rye,
Thrown at motionless feet.
The freedom you enjoyed,
Just walking around
Enjoying the atmosphere,
Distinguising the sounds.
The dark gothic dakota night,
Blood red spills, anger and fright
A martyr lies dead, a lunatic looms,
The end of an era, the start of his doom.
Double Fantasy lies signed on the ground,
The gunshots heard, now all so profound.
A generations idol, shot through with holes,
By a madman intent, on killing his soul.