Did the 17
Have the chance
To taste
The cheap
Heart shaped
Chocolate
Before they were shot
In Florida?

Did
They have the chance
To feel loves
Honey'd anxiety,
Maybe telling their new minds,

This is the day
I'm telling them
How I really feel.

Maybe,
Today is the day I love.

Maybe,
I won't
Be
Who I once was.

Growth and
Gun Powder
Collide

Was there a moment
In the morning,
Valentine in back pocket,
Obsessed over and spotless,
Of doubting ones
Love?

Did each of the

17

Wonder if they would

Maybe
Perhaps
Ah' who cares (I do)

Get a valentine from that someone?

Did they
Have time
To
Ask themselves?

Ricocheting rhetoric
The gunman was too young
To understand

What he was taking
What he took
What he now has

Befell by

Mental health
Troubled
An outcast

The gunman could not comprehend

That never will they experience heartbreak or
Loves majestic unrest

The 17

Will never feel
The candied warmth
Of a smile returned
From the one
They couldn't keep themselves from
Falling towards

I,

Mourning with these words,
Become myself a tool
In the machine
Of grieving

I weep
For the heart
Ripped of the chance
To beat
For
Another

I cry
For the soul
Now unable
To tangle
With another

I scream
For a trust
That can never
Be given to
Another

Yet,
These cries
Are still echoing
From our
Past

So, I hold
In my hand
The shape of heart
Bordered with pink lace
And white frill

It is torn,
Perhaps beyond repair

There's
No more
Calling out sick
For the 17
Dead

The school dance
Has been cancelled.
A vigil
For the victims
Instead

And instead of reading them,
Our children's books
Will be used
As riot shields
And our teachers
Will be bullet proof
And pat downs and
Metal detectors
At every entrance
And exit

A fortress for our future

So listen for
The school bell's ring

For they ring
Over gun fire
Terror, greed, and
The evisceration
Of our innocent youth

Recess

Is

Over