Free-form Poetry: Listen to them.

[ Sometimes I vent through free-form poetry. I have been trying to find a way of expressing the fear / frustration / heartbreak over the various gun violence incidents that have occurred in the States recently. I support the Parkland students, and the countless number of victims who have been taken in terrorist shootings, both home-grown and extremist. These are only my opinions and feelings – take them as you will. ]

Listen to them.

It’s hard not to get lost in it. The state of threat, the overwhelming feel of it.
Every day the news blares a new symphony of tragedy.
Painting the daily grind in fresh new blood bleaker then the day before.
It makes you want to run and hide, sink deep inside – screaming out “NO MORE”.
I’m tired of these same stories puncuated with violence and ammunition.
Brother to brother, Sister to sister – we all bleed red, and I’m tired of the stain.
Look, so much pain has to remain the same, because it’s too big for us.
I’m not foolish to think we can just wish it all away,
I’m no superman – we can’t change the world.
But it’s not lost on me that some of those tradgeies are here.
We’re fighting a war on our own soil, that’s bloody clear.
Children have been dying while trying just to get ahead.
Killed by home-grown terrorists even though the news leaves it unsaid.
And trust me that is what they are, no pleasantries need be placed –
A terrorist. It’s a moniker, not a bloody race.
The same weapons used in war used to kill the children that your soldiers die for!
There is so much things in this tragic world that we can not change,
Yet you have the audacity to give more rights to a gun then someones daughter or son –
left to bleed out while you jack off to your jacked up assualt rifle?
I’m sorry to be crass but can you all just stop a moment and think!
I’m Canadian. I don’t have a reason to lecture you about politics.
But what you’re facing is detonation and that’s a lot bigger then you.
Brother to brother, and sister to sister – we all bleed the same.
Out the mouth of your youth comes wisdom they earned in pain.
It’s wisdom bathed in the blood of their friends and the scars they wear.
LISTEN TO THEM.
They don’t want all your bloody guns! They don’t want your prayers!
They want to know that they can go to school and learn without fearing it’s their turn.
They want to be able to hear a bell without suffering an aniexty attack,
Yet you have the audacity to give more rights to a gun then someone’s daughter or son?
How is it that gun regulation is so big and terrifying that it scares you less then that?
How is it such an insane suggestion that some restriction needs to be in place?
When did you trade in your empathy for an assault rifle and a collar stamped ‘NRA’?
My heart hurts because I see the youth of your nation standing up and crying out –
In their utter desperation they are unified.
Trying despertly to end the tide of needless violence in their backyards.
I see them fighting for their lives.
LISTEN TO THEM.
Trying desperately to end the tide of needless violence in their backyards.

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