A busy gun takes lives
Silent leaders do worse
Voice your pain or get blessed with a curse
Blood shed Schools
We elected fools
Wrong leaders to lead us
Pushing useless agenda’s
While feeding us propaganda
Halls covered red
thousands of innocent people killed
At the expense of gun reform laws
Watching news with dropped jaws
We sit in silence
while the voiceless die for peace
steely cold
chilling drilling killing
innocent children's blood spilling
gun
A Cinquain - five lines. Line one is the one-word title; Line two - two words to describe title; Line 3 - three words that tell action Line 4 - four word phrase to express feeling; Line 5 - another word for title
This is not a poem, but...

At least 10 people were killed as a result of a school shooting in Texas this morning. It's a tragedy, but one of the sort that seems to diminish in scope with each passing month. Ten people lost their lives in a fury of unimaginable pain and anguish, yet we seem to grow more immune by the hour. it's a mournful event over which we should weep, but it seems our hearts grow frosty and we hardly bat an eye. Because here's the thing--it's hardly news anymore. We are hardly surprised, hardly hurt, hardly affected. And this is perhaps the greatest tragedy of all.

4 victims were killed in a Tennessee Waffle House--surely now that I mention it, you recall the headlines. That was less than a month ago. The Parkland, Florida school shooting that left 17 dead was less than 2.5 months ago. The Sutherland Springs church shooting that left 26 dead was 6.5 months ago. The Las Vegas Massacre, which saw 58 people killed and over 800 injured, happened not even 8 months ago. The Pulse nightclub shooting that left 49 dead is not even 2 years old. The Charleston Church shooting, killing 9 and perpetrated by white supremacist Dylann Roof, isn't even 3 years old. The Aurora, Colorado movie theater shooting that killed 12 was almost 6 years ago, and the Sandy Hook shooting, leaving 27 dead--20 of whom were elementary schoolers--happened only months later.  The Virginia Tech shooting that killed 32 was 11 years ago. Columbine, where 15 people died, will be 19 years old this coming Sunday.

We remember all the headlines, but little of the aftermath. There's too much pain and trauma involved to fully recall the mournful scenes that follow each shooting. And so we are forced to attempt to move on with our lives, thereby washing our hands of the stain of these bloody massacres. We call for reforms, then forget when our politicians move on.

Indeed, our greatest and most fearsome coping mechanism, put simply, has been to forget. We forget the anguish, the empty, hollow, now-caustic thoughts and prayers, the toothless promises of reform. We forget, and move on. On to the street, on to the next, safe in the knowledge that we tried.

...

It seems to me that the greatest and most lamentable tragedy of this entire conversation may not be the crime itself, but rather our reaction to it.

And so it was, then, that when I read this morning's headline about the Texas shooting, I was hardly surprised. My greatest shock was that I was not shocked. And that I was not shocked, and that you weren't either, I'll wager, might be a crime greater than all the others.

After all, those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it, no?

Until next time, then...
emnabee 6d
To you sir
with the gun.

Please
lock it up.
I’m trying to be fucking polite.
It’s not the best neighborhood in the best part of town.
Gets so bad to the point where I have a knife, taser, pepper spray, not to even meantion a gun in my truck.

It’s not that I’m scared. Its just down here it’s survival of the fittest. You do what you have to do.

I know what your thinking survival of the fittest means just you as a person and not your weapons.

I’m a girl alone in the streets what if they have me in a position where I can’t fight back with my hands?

But I was put on this earth for a reason and ima make dam sure I don’t go out of it weak.

                       With love,
                          Anonymous
Robert Ronnow May 13
I'm dead. Unlike Frost and Yeats
nothing I've said will be remembered.
Unlike Roosevelt and Lincoln
nothing I'm thinking will win the war.

I'm going to go to my grave unsung
like almost everyone. These mountains
are my grave. A good grave
to go to. There's no such thing

as being saved. When you're gone
you're done. At least 60 million
people don't believe it, don't believe
in evolution. Man, that ape,

can heap a peck of hurt posthaste
with earth movers and machine guns.
Information technology
cannot save your soul, heck,

I've tried. Every morning
I total the polloi
coming to my site for wisdom.
The number's usually zero.

A good number to know.
When my heart fibrillates
I lay my head
against my sleeping wife.

Solace, comfort. She says,
Take your pill, fool.
In an hour at most
I'm feeling great again!
www.ronnowpoetry.com
It’s near to midday
But so far to midnight.
She walks along the side road,
Lonely and no one around.

She wants to be a gunner, she thinks.
A skillful hired gunner,
But she didn’t hold a gun for a long time.

A gun she used to hold
Was a toy back to childhood.
But now she is thinking to be a gunner.
Yes, what you heard is true.

She used to shot her little brother,
But she was inattentive.
And she didn’t even know,
That was a real gun.

It was back to her birthday,
Her little brother gave a gun as a gift.
But that was unexpected,
A gun was a real one.

She just look at to little brother on her birthday,
With the gift she got.
And now, her little brother has pass away.

What she should do next,
In order to bring back her brother life.
It’s such a silence moment,
That scene stuck in her mind.

Every morning she woke up,
A nightmare never disappear.
To for got everything,
To for got a bad day she live.
She should turn herself as a gunner
And shot everyone in birthday party.
Especially whoever she knows.

She shots every single head in birthday party,
The truth is, no one was hired her.
But the devil was herself
That gently turn into dark side.
Haleigh May 9
Razors;

Just one
slash on the skin
and enough
blood will gush out
then it’s finished
you’re free
and dead

Poison;

Easy, not
one sweat would
drip from your skin.
Just drink
nonstop—
don’t pause to
catch a breath
because you wouldn’t be
needing it.

Choking;

A lot effort,
but will definitely do.
You will need some
time with yourself
and only you.
Tie the most beautiful
knot you could do,
then hang yourself
like one of your
favorite clothes.

Pills to sleep;

One,
two,
three—
doesn’t matter how many.
Drink it all,
and you will fall
deep asleep
and wouldn’t feel it hurt.
It’s just like
overcoming a nightmare.

Intentional Accident;

Wander around
the dark, quiet highway.
Sit for a while and
maybe write a little.
Look around, say,
"I’ll miss you."
And then by now
maybe a car in a hurry
would hit you.

Drowning;

Oh, how calm the
sea looks like.
Would I bother its
sleeping time
if I jumped in it
and hugged it
tight?

Trigger, pistol, gunpowder;

Daddy had a pistol
hidden in his drawer.
He said he would use it
if some bad person
tries to burgle.
He only knows of
one kind of bad person.
He never suspected
he was living with one.
Crystal May 5
Its coming nearer
I can only see it
No one notices
Not a single bit

My blade is sharper
More blood
Spreading everywhere
It will flood

My end is near
Time to end it all
Time to say goodbye
Time to let the blood pool

Its coming closer
I can feel it
The names are getting worse
Getting pushed in the grit

They have caused it
All the names
All the pushes
They think its all fun and games

The time is now
Im ready to go
Time to end the pain
So no one will know
Ashlee May 3
Do you hear them?
No.
Because you can't.
They died;
so long ago,
and yet,
so recently.
Their voices forever silenced.
By the
gun that went;
BANG.
So many lives lost with no reason as to why.
They left us;
their friends,
their family,
their classmates,
their fellow citizens.
Wondering why.
Why did they leave us so soon,
those affected by gun violence?
They are all around us,
students,
families of victims,
that kid you shot in the street,
those who committed suicide,
all of them;
human.
All of them gone.
Never to be heard from again.
A tribute to those who lost their lives, loved ones, and those who are affected by gun violence.
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