America, Our words won’t shake the world enough to grow flowers out of gunpowder, or bright red, blood-curdling screams.
But we can try
These kids were 14 when they closed their eyes for the last time They were 14 when the stepped out their front doors for the last time, Their fresh eyes were swallowed out the back of their necks
I look at them the way I look at a blank canvas Opportunity cascading like waterfalls I look at them as a museum that was waiting for art Waiting for love And America I am waiting for love
I was 14 and I was stuck in my own head Trying to find something to belong to but searching in all the wrong places. I was 14 and I too thought more about ending my own life than I would like to admit I was 14 and I never watched the news because it never pertained to me
You see, I was selfish for thinking the news never pertained to me I was selfish for staying so disengaged, desensitized America, my home, my nightmare Wake up Blame the video games, blame mental illness But America, look You’re killing your children
Wake up, Because I am sick of praying I am so tired of feeling helpless Maybe there’s something we can do Let's make our voices heard Let's turn our lost blood to ink And scream to ******* artist himself,
I’m sorry, Mr. President But, did you get more than you bargained for? We’ve been patient Mr. President And we’re ready for your response. Wake up, Mr. President How many lives must be lost? You’re a ******* artist, Mr. President, But you can’t worm your way out this time Don’t choke now Mr. President This problem is kinda huge. This country is a divided wrist, Mr. President And your stubborn orange skin makes it seem as if we’re going to lose.