If a busy gun takes lives
Then silent leaders do worse
They burn lives, hang knuses on the innocent
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

at least one shooting every week
congress & president mild and meek
whatever they might do or say
no blame goes to the NRA

that keeps abusing the 2nd amendment
     who needs militias today?!
and thanks to that ****** arrangement
more students weekly fall prey

to psychopaths in our states
whose weapons open the gates
to free indiscriminate killing
thanks to our politicians unwilling

to forego all the boons
they receive from their insane tycoons

When a stroke killed their own
A shadow from afar
Left a tiny gray spark
Kid hanging from his feet
Begging for mercy
Begging for life
Blood bursting out of his veins
While wings of murderer spread in delight
While his face, paralyzed with fear
And others crying in panic

His heart stopped beating
His lungs ran out of air
His body stopped fighting
And nobody tried to dare

I was your fuel
You were my drain
I was your blessing
You were my lesson
I was your cure
You were my disease
I was saving you
You were killing me

- I was calming your soul, you were stirring mine

I load my silver tongue with brass
crass and hollowed-points may be my nature
**** my thoughts, take aim
and with plosive sputter,
sling my brain
with metal hatred

Fling my words in forked contention,
misattribute my cold-hearted intentions,
with passion a fervor holds convection,
'Till pride produce the bituminous heavens

But still,
with marksman's gaze will you free my lies,
your scope of view between the ghostly sights
and trigger a sensationalist enterprise
for which all my lies will bleach
From red to white,
Tartarous sheen

There are words severed from man,
and as they hang their heads for the guillotine,
has any body stopped to ask,
"What do they mean"?

But the wheel cannot cease revoluting,
just as the rifle cannot beget its shooting,
Without the fatal trace of careful phrase,
fingered around the triggered maze
These words will fly
hot metal and lye
Awash the ****** floor of dissident
and acidic representation

Till all the light of spoken rhyme,
will dine upon the littered flames