Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2016
The day starts out like any day--
A Saturday morning just like most others.
The diner is buzzing with customers:
Grandparents, kids, fathers, mothers.

Breakfast specials, waitresses dashing
To and fro--no time for slacking.
Each waitress proudly displays her handgun.
(This is a state where everyone's packing.)

Somebody hears a man complain
To the waitress, saying his eggs aren't done.
He doesn't like how she responds,
So he kills her with one shot from his gun.

Suddenly all hell breaks loose.
Bullets go flying; people are screaming.
Covered with blood, a survivor says later,
"It happened so fast, I thought I was dreaming."

Shrieking at seeing the waitress fall,
A young mother aims at the shooter,
Missing him and instead sending
A bullet into the town's prosecutor,

Whose wife shoots at the impulsive mother,
Hitting the woman smack in the head.
Meanwhile, the husband points his gun
At his wife's killer, shooting her dead.

Customers everywhere dive for cover,
Aiming their guns in the air and firing.
Popping noises drown out the screams
And moans of people hit and expiring.

Running out of the kitchen a cook
Shoots his gun in all directions,
Missing his targets and yet hitting someone
And displaying his shooting imperfections.

Someone else has better aim--
Or a random bullet plays its part--
For Henry, the cook, falls to the floor
When a bullet pierces his heart.

The busboy--having been grazed in the face--
Shoots into the chaotic river
Of mayhem and bullets. He is killed
When he is shot through the stomach and liver.

Pockmarked with holes, the once-cheerful joint
Is now streaked and splattered with blood.
Survivors will never forget hearing
Each bang and scream, followed by a thud.

Everybody gets caught in the crossfire.
The rounds spare neither adult nor child.
(Fifteen people lose their lives
By the time all the reports are compiled.)

When the police arrive at the diner,
In horror they observe the slaughter.
The sheriff suddenly screams out in agony
When he notices his blood-covered daughter.

On the wall, a TV is playing.
Somehow it has managed to survive.
On the news an NRA
Spokesman is being interviewed live,

Saying that America needs more guns
And that gun regulation is obscene.
Aiming his gun at the TV, the sheriff
Pulls the trigger and blows out the screen

- by Bob B
Bob B
Written by
Bob B
284
     Cadence
Please log in to view and add comments on poems