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Rebecca Longtin Jun 2016
You are perfect
Smart
Beautiful
Blonde and Blue Eyes
I shuffle over
You look up
Our first second of eye contact
I see the kindness in your eyes
The bass is so loud
The dancing men and women surrounding us
Sadly the first second is the last
I feel a shooting pain rush up my spine
I touch my chest
Red
Now her eyes are filled with fear
The next second, she falls
We lay beside each other
The red gushing out of our chests
All because we were girls
RIP Orlando LGBT community.
I am bi and it stings that people are filled with so much hate that they would do this.
Thomas EG Jun 2016
Fifty innocent deaths
Are fifty deaths too many
They prove that the world still

Is full of hatred
I have a right to hate it
Proof: This blood spill

And now there is a lack of blood
Yet we are not allowed donate ?
O positive and O negative, oh

Mainly, I am positive that
This needs to change
**I am so sorry, Orlando
At times like this, we must unite and show the world that #lovewins
Pauline Morris Jun 2016
Besides the screams and panic
Besides people becoming maniac
Was the most haunting of sound ever heard
It was more haunting than any word
It was the continuous ringing cellphones of the dead
You could hear in the ring the realization and dread
Love is love.
There is no definition to say you ' cannot be this way ' if you love a man or a woman or both or none at all - whoever you embed your heart within  has nothing to do with anyone but you.
Love is love.
Fall for the sunset in her eyes and the laugh she has on autumn evenings, find a world within her soft skin.
Love is love.
Choose his comfort, the way your frail frame mirrors in his body and like a portrait; you're a work of art.
Love is love.
Dance in the compassion of both genders and be a stream of a purple in a world of blue and pink  paint.

Love is love, regardless.
PFL Jun 2016
Ubiquitously, ideas are conceived,
I wholly in you as you are in me,
This father tells his son with certainty.
Escape, we cannot, this universal reality.
Right or wrong dualities, balance, not explained,
Its instability privately entertained,
The constance of truth’s demise.
Words, alone, cannot suffice
When clarity is shadowed by
Renown contrived lies.
Freedom relents,
Best wishes set forth, then go astray.
Evil dominates good’s intent,
When humanity ceases to speak, ignorance’s silence reigns.
Those chosen step forward alone, while the rest fade away
Into the dark truths, they’ve conveyed.
Their beliefs, a glowing flame’s frenzied trance,
Drawn to, the timorous souls, who’s to say,
For such admiration would not behoove to take the chance.
They desire to part from their union with despair,
Willing to let self-identity disappear.
Granted access into an incredible nothingness,
No need forever the seeking of more,
There to find, the new you, self assured.
Told, they are, others less fortunate cannot relate,
For they have not been chosen to reach this special state.
Foolishly they never ask why?
Those who have gone before them have yet to send back a sign.
How much you believed in them and they you,
Within the moment after, you knew,
All the words exchanged and trusted were falsely construed.
You’ve lost, yet have they won?
Who’s going to tell the truth to your four year old son?
"He was a good man, who always came to daily prayers with his 4 year old son." Fort Pierce Florida Imam
50:53

Strobe
   when  revealing  a  smile  variegated
your polychrome
   soul  within  sight
   does not know where to go but to pine away
from   the single light  to touch
   the innards  of your   button-down
    making intimate the body  contorts  dancing with another
                a minute past  a  gyratory

if   belief  is a  grave:   let   stasis be  metamorphosis.
   this rained-on house will not give way any minute

else  there is the  wreckage  springing from a singular
  hiding behind  the  music ballasting ground
                    and from a convinced consequence of being
   became fracture as if salacious to withdraw nothing but noise

   from the quiet or vice versa. If when  breaths were postponed,  inert – they will
  start    estimates  from  outside
      the   neon sign that  says Pulse and  reimagine the lives when divorced
     from  the daily, and is  then  summarized

  in a  fusillade.   When  on the  ground

    they  must  have been  dreaming   of  wings,  or  falling asleep
               constantly  with   a warm  body   stranger  tomorrow in  that  evening
   a  contingent

                   this   place   they  have   not   reached  yet against  their head
  said  it  was  the   most  sincere of  blankness at  any  given  rate,
               when   movements  statistical,  numbered, unwarranted like a metaphor
     or a glib downpour – the aftermath

                       becomes   sleep so tender with a dream which resonates
   They must  have been   dreaming  of  wings  but  by  the  time  when someone
   waiting  for  them
               inside  homes,   they have  already   flown into    days.
for Orlando.
Meg Jun 2016
love
knows no boundaries.
love is love is love
and there is nothing you could say
to change that.
Wishing the best to the families of the victims of the tragic Orlando shooting. LGBTQ pride lives on no matter what.
Chameleon Jun 2016
I spent the first two hours I was awake, crying as I watched the news.
Every channel was talking about the massacre in Orlando.
I was surprised to find myself a sobbing mess, and apparently so was my dog, because she crawled up beside me trying to lick away my tears and let me hug her, but I couldn't stop.
I have no words to describe the sadness I feel for the victims and their families.
Also, for my country.
I am frightened because I know there is more to come, except there's no way to tell when or where.
It's so easy to not realize what's happening in the world, when you have every day problems that distract you from the global pain.
I wish there was something I could do, to save the people on this planet, to save my home.
I stand with Orlando
Marya123 Jun 2016
Who are you to say, who I choose to love?
Who are you to say, who I pray to?
Who are you to say, I must be this way?
Who are you? I haven’t got a clue.
You say, “Actions unite a society.
You must act accordingly, you must!
Be normal, be how we have always been
Then, in you we shall place our trust.
If you don’t agree to this, Go away
Away from here, you do not belong!
Leave us in peace, we don't need you.
We send you off, for without you, we’re strong.”

But I’ll ask you: do I deserve to die?
Am I so disgusting I can’t live?
How can you decide I must die this way?
What have I done that you can’t forgive?
A poem for those who died during the Orlando massacre of 12th June 2016.
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