With steel and flint
We strike a spark
Our hope,
to burn away the dark

A simple spark
Not all it seems
To ward off fears
rekindle dreams

Shield it well
And give it air
Feed it's needs
And take good care

And from that spark
A flame will grow
To heat the soul
And rid your woe

When you tell me your troubles
I feel I have to fix them.
That is my job, my reason to be.

I know you do not want that.
You need me to listen,
that is all.
So I listen.
But under the surface I am searching for solutions.

This ties my mind in knots I cannot unpick and I despair.

Telling you this will just add to your problems, the opposite of fixing them.

So who do I tell?
I am stuck. *******.
Shouldering problems, unable to fix them, unable to talk about them for fear of creating more.

Sometimes I worry I cannot hold them all.
But I worry more that if you know this,
you won't tell me your troubles,
and I won't be able to fix them.

America is great!
So... just to get it straight?
Your right to have and hold a gun.. For fun..
Trumps the rights of all daughters, and sons...
to learn, to play, in a place, that’s safe?

You are not defending freedom,
the only thing that’s freed..
Is Your Greed.

The cash rolls in,
the shooting starts again,
the NRA write... A. Big. Fat. Cheque.
Whilst kids learn to “hit the deck!”?

You want teachers trained as shooters,
Not as tutors.