Blood Everywhere

A poem of schools and guns

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You wake up one morning,

With nary a care,

Jump out of bed,

Fixing your hair,

Never guessing that later,

There’ll be blood everywhere

You glance at the news,

“Lose weight now, for free!”

Banal and boring,

The talk on TV,

Just a few hours’ more,

Mere minutes of waiting,

There’ll be blood everywhere.

It’s almost midday,

You’re leaving your class,

Walking out of a meeting,

Sitting down on the grass,

Getting some sun.

And all the while,

You’re having a laugh,

Never knowing

Suspecting

That the shooting’s begun

And there’s blood everywhere

A few hours’ later,

You glance at a screen,

The bodies of children,

Are there to be seen,

In the background their parents,

Are weeping,

Screaming, and weeping,

The tears on their face painting whispers of sorrow,

The days of their loved ones,

Devoid of tomorrow.

Now there’s blood everywhere.

In front of the children,

Their voices call out,

The pundits together,

An almighty shout,

“THIS IS ALL ABOUT FREEDOM”

Their flags proudly fly,

They dance on the children,

The children who died.

So maybe it’s freedom,

Or maybe it’s not.

A story of slaughter,

Or a story forgot.

But one thing we know,

While they scream and they yell,

That children don’t care,

About freedom in class,

They care about safety,

Love,

Respect,

Learning.

So where do we stand,

At the end of the day?

Is it better to posture,

And pretend it’s ok

To forget the children,

The children who died,

So that you can go armed,

Wherever. Whenever. Guns everywhere.

Or can we wake up,

Change what we say?

“Never again, from today”

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