The Killing of Freddie Powell

I promise this isn't nonsense, not even a bluff,

But taking your life surely isn't a task too tough.

For I've finally decided that I've had enough,

Because you're a useless cigar who hasn't one more puff.

Although your kitchen window is obscured through the rain,

It's not enough to prevent causing you very real pain.

It will come as a bullet piercing right through your brain,

For I know that you, Freddie Powell, will die in vain.

Meanwhile, I'm playing a sport or perhaps just a game,

And the objective's to hit you through the window frame.

Now, I will finally grant you a moment of fame,

For a week, Mr. Powell, you'll be a household name.

The action I had to take may be considered foul,

But you were right over there, Mr. Freddie Powell.

And just as you hung up your fancy, green dish towel,

Behind me, I heard a coyote howl his last howl.

And thus by the strike of a bullet the game was won,

For there you lay, Mr. Powell, struck down by a gun.

However, since I surely didn't have enough fun,

I have decided that you will not be the last one.