Poem on Tim Johnson

Musical [pick one]:
2. Write a poem on the shooting of Tim Johnson
February
Saturday
Rifles
In hands
Strolling
Squinting
What a sight!
They raced
Home
To the comfort
Of a black
A motherly figure
Panic
Hysteria
Phoning in distress
The man they all respect
All doors were shut, and
All windows closed, the
Streets were empty
Except for it
2 men arrive
A push of responsibility
He drops his glasses
He reads the distance and cocks the gun
Fires the weapon that makes one weak

(It looks like a vertical rifle in MS Word.... But it still has a bit of th shape here)

But
What can I say
Shock and surprise
Hang on their minds
Unbelievable, they stare
Mouths agape, they just cannot
Believe. Just like the lenses,
Their previous impressions,
Grinded into powder.
( And this is supposed to be in the shape of a bullet, fat in the middle, thin at the ends)