Make your own free website on

Poetry 4U - Poems Short Stories and Song Lyrics by John Roberts

Your Local Sniper

Modern Concrete Cowboy ( Lyric )
I'm An Independent Woman ( Lyric )
Jessica and Harry in the Magic Jungle ( Childrens Story )
Angel of the Morning
Brown Eyed Girl
Diatribe of an Emerging Scribe
Love While Apart
Moor Good Mornings
Just being a Woman
I Remember Buddy Holly
Monsters in My Bedroom ( Childrens Poem )
Your Local Sniper
Simply Love
My Invisible Friend ( Childrens Poem )
Reflections On Life
Cheap and Safe ?
First Kiss
Mental Torture
Africa - Where's The Profit
Commuter Hell !
I Remember 18
50 Comes Around
Heroes and Villains
Loves Vortex
3 Little Important Words
Cabal of Cowards
Teen Week
I Will Live On
The Carousel
Poetry Links Directory - Submit URL Free - Add Your Site - Add Link

Your Local Sniper


Rivulets of rain, like cold fingers on my spine,

Patter on my cover, image intensifier whines.

I carefully adjust my body, this harbinger of death,

The only signs of life that show, a wisp of frozen breath.

Three days I’ve lain in this damp hole, no target yet I’ve seen,

A harbinger of death, doing my duty for my Queen.

I try to quell my thoughts, of home and heart and wife,

As I lay here patiently, to take another man’s life.

Through many years of training, I’ve learned to be detached,

Not to consider the target, more than a photo to be matched.

Maybe, he has a family, a wife and child, like me,

But I have my orders, he must die, so others may be free.

I slowly scan the field before me, electric green in the image sight,

A harbinger of death, my target may come tonight.

People may abhor me, for what I do, and why,

My target is a ‘bomber’, and for this, he must now die.

I see movement by the cottage door, I slowly lift my gun,

Check the crosshairs in the sight, my deed may soon be done.

I hear the sounds that invade the night, a distant badger’s cough,

There’s no one there, by the door, I turn my night sight off.

The radio hisses in my ear, through the static a quiet voice sounds

From some safe post, far away, the C.O. doing his rounds.

I whisper my report, so as not to give my hide away,

A harbinger of death, I’ll come back another day.

You may not like to be conscious, that people like me exist,

A harbinger of death, laying waiting in the mist.

Who do you think protects your freedom, your liberal way of life,

I may be a deadly sniper, but I’m just the guy next door, with the lovely wife.

As you sleep quite safely, in your comfy family bed.,

I may be out, in that field once more, and some one may be dead

All work is Copyright 2005 of John Roberts and may not be republished without permission of the owner. If you wish to use any information from this site or re-publish it elsewhere, please contact us first.