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WolvesThey are wolves.Those demanding menWith their cheesy pick-up linesAnd vicious grins.Hear those taunting howls.They're ravenous for discomfort.They live for the chaseOf a frightened rabbit.But she's too proud to be their gameSo she kicks and bites,Claws and fightsUntil they retreatWith wounded pride and startled eyes.They ask her,"What's the matter cutie?Don't you like men?"But their teeth only sink skin deepAnd their lies die on their lips.They are wolves;Women are their prey.
Killsome soldiers.just brainwashed killing machines.I can't understand.why?why can't I?what is so difficult about comprehendingthe way some can killwith no conscience?but still.it gets me every time.the image of a little boyplaying in filthy streets,straightening in terroras those men roll by.and they use him...just like a coke can.just another targetfor practice.