Mercenaries Poem by Gary Diamond

Mercenaries and bounty hunters
The prey is a human candidate.
I think that'd be an easy kind of job.
In a small way you're culling
The over-population.

As some martyrs say, death is enevitable anyway.
Why not get it out of the way and see if there's
An afterlife
Or just blackness
Or some kind of limbo.
Who knows?

Mercenaries, the hunters of men.
Bounty hunters, cash on receipt of cadaver.
Statistics written casually on sheets of bleached paper
Addresses memorized then desposed of.

Would it be so hard to become a killer
To start with swatting the fly
Then shooting someone in the eye
For money.

What would be the over-riding sensation
The disgust of murder or adrenaline's elation.
Not easy to answer that without standing in the shoes
Of the killer with the rifle aiming.

Our national armed forces often do this every day.
You could apply right now.