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#gunviolence
We are prey. We have been prey since elementary. We are still prey to this day. Every drill. Every shooting. Every threat. We are prey. We are born helpless. We live helplessly. Nothing has changed. We live in fear of each other. We live in fear of the reality of being prey. Isn’t it crazy to know what it feels like to be hunted? We are not deer. We are not bears. We are nothing but power-hungry animals. This is not a message of “Just be kind,”. But to never accept. To never normalize This Society. You either live in fear. Or you're part of the fear. -Kat.J.K
0
Nov 26, 2025
Nov 26, 2025 at 7:19 PM UTC
To Know What It Feels Like to be Hunted.
Hi, I want to take your children I want to take them away from this bitter piece of **** of a country that would rather use their bright minds as shiny targets– and use excuses for the departed as a way to push religion for the hands of politicians who went to church once when they were three for a baptism they sure as hell hope now was enough to wash away the sins that soak in their hands in the form of child's blood. While there are single parents who tie the shoes tight of their little ones, So they won’t be gunned down in the case that they have to run far into the tree line becoming lost boys and little girls, before they’re lost souls and gravestones. And this is a robbery because I’m tired of having precious lives robbed from me by a nation run by rich white men in black cloaks waiting to **** the blood from you but hey, the thirty cents in your pocket is good too. I wonder how fast they could run from a gun with their wallets weighted wetter than the fat sponge a daughter uses to cleanse her elderly mother of the burden of a life well fought under the capitalist oppressiveness before she throws herself off a precipice so her children can use the life insurance, for rent money And yes I looked up the word precipice for this. And at the end the definition says a cliff. And specifies: “especially a tall one” and it works well for this because Yes! It was a tall one, the tallest one.                                                                                           And as she walks off                                                                                                           and begins                                                                                                               the long                                                                                                                      fall,                                                         She thinks about her daughter's first steps,                                                              how she walked so softly into her heart                                                                             and she felt for the first time–                                                                                                       A deep dread.                                                                                                       As she knew,                                                                                that she could never protect                                                                                   those innocent little hands                                                             that cupped her face as she reached her,                                                                                                  from this broken                                                                                                                  world.                And all she thinks to herself before her bones become the ground is:                                                                                                         God, please,                                                                                                              save her.
0
Nov 19, 2025
Nov 19, 2025 at 11:23 AM UTC
On that day there was no god
Hi, I want to take your children I want to take them away from this bitter piece of **** of a country that would rather use their bright minds as shiny targets– and use excuses for the departed as a way to push religion for the hands of politicians who went to church once when they were three for a baptism they sure as hell hope now was enough to wash away the sins that soak in their hands in the form of child's blood. While there are single parents who tie the shoes tight of their little ones, So they won’t be gunned down in the case that they have to run far into the tree line becoming lost boys and little girls, before they’re lost souls and gravestones. And this is a robbery because I’m tired of having precious lives robbed from me by a nation run by rich white men in black cloaks waiting to **** the blood from you but hey, the thirty cents in your pocket is good too. I wonder how fast they could run from a gun with their wallets weighted wetter than the fat sponge a daughter uses to cleanse her elderly mother of the burden of a life well fought under the capitalist oppressiveness before she throws herself off a precipice so her children can use the life insurance, for rent money And yes I looked up the word precipice for this. And at the end the definition says a cliff. And specifies: “especially a tall one” and it works well for this because Yes! It was a tall one, the tallest one.                                                                                           And as she walks off                                                                                                           and begins                                                                                                               the long                                                                                                                      fall,                                                         She thinks about her daughter's first steps,                                                              how she walked so softly into her heart                                                                             and she felt for the first time–                                                                                                       A deep dread.                                                                                                       As she knew,                                                                                that she could never protect                                                                                   those innocent little hands                                                             that cupped her face as she reached her,                                                                                                  from this broken                                                                                                                  world.                And all she thinks to herself before her bones become the ground is:                                                                                                         God, please,                                                                                                              save her.
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53
The concrete bleeds red, and her hair sticks to the pavement. Her eyes fighting to blink, one more time she tells herself: one more time. Her stomach fills with blood, full of silence a painful calm. She still doesn’t believe she will die, because it could never happen to her. The screams of people around her fade to a buzzing cacophony of blur. It was not a pretty way to die. Face squished against the ground, a body above her, a millisecond too late. Because they don’t teach you to count milliseconds in school. Because peace is not meant for speed. She believes it felt much longer than a few minutes, but a body can only fight to exist for so long. She slipped out of that hallowed form, a long stretch of light has wisped her away. ; When they told me she died my first thought was that it was not right for someone to die this young. Being cousins, her image was distant but lovable. I loved her like I loved the idea of academia. I almost went to school anyway that day. But it hit me in my chest, much like it hit her that the world had lost something. That her own academic years had ended. And I thought about how she would describe her death to me. I don’t believe it was warm. Nor that she was afraid. I think, she was sorry.
0
Nov 16, 2025
Nov 16, 2025 at 12:21 AM UTC
To die in August
Letters touch the soul, steel peels her core. She bleeds, bleeds red. The blood seeps to gore. Her eyes–lost clouds, pressed deep blue. She secures her touch, feels the rotted hole. Buh du buh du buh du bu; the world's crust creeps to closed port. The sole body left, the body left the soul the bullet rests her chest forever.
0
Oct 21, 2025
Oct 21, 2025 at 9:44 PM UTC
Mikina and Bullet have nothing in Common
Charlie Kirk:  Called  for “God’s perfect law” of stoning gay  people  to death !  Do you know how painful it is to be killed in that manner?   Constantly and. repeatedly   called women *****   dumb ****** , *****  receptacles    etc.   His main target was susceptible youth, and he spent the majority of. His early career targeting college campuses with Turning Point USA, a national conservative youth group and media platform he launched.  Potential members say they were brainwashed, coerced,        fleeced repeatedly.  and  bullied. Hazing was common and encouraged.   He openly and  cruelly   mocked trans people, saying someone identifying as  trans is akin to a white person putting on blackface. Pushed “great replacement” trash,   doubled and tripled down on the whole Haitians eating pets thing   called  for  open hate   and  condoned  violence.  he’s discussing real deaths of school  kids  as acceptable collateral, which is morally grotesque said it was just.......“an unfortunate cost”  ...     ALL  with corporate sponsors and social media reach. No  self-righteous, self important CARR  and the    FCC chair threatening   him   or  his ridiculous dog and pony circus of a  lopsided hate  filled   GOP  propaganda  labeled  as  a show .   No  stations    lost  licenses over that.    Charli could (and did) spew YEARS   of hate filled   , racist misogynist. bile . Uncorroborated. Unchecked.  dogwhistles, anti-LGBTQ screeds, conspiracy theories  . etc ad  infinitum.... all the while defending violent extremist movements. Including, but not limited to, attacking gays at funerals and AIDS victims. The worst type of mental garbage anyone could possibly imagine cranked all the way past 11. All of it dressed up as “political commentary.” As vile as it is, the Constitution protects that speech because it’s viewpoint. The First Amendment doesn’t let the government say: “We like this opinion but not that one.” It only makes very narrow carve-outs (direct incitement to imminent violence, true threats , obscenity, terrorism etc.). Kirk’s   non stop  SEWAGE    apparently   didn’t cross that legal threshold, so it’s   some  how shielded. Meanwhile, when Kimmel drops one pointed line  like... “hey, that shooter looks like one of yours” suddenly the  full  trump  hammer drops. That’s not about protecting decency. That’s about selective enforcement. Here’s the hypocrisy in plain language: Jimmy Kimmel: makes a single satirical jab pointing out an uncomfortable political truth, and suddenly affiliates yank his show Disney  cowards capitulate.   and suspends him, FCC chair   threatens  at regulatory action. That’s not “free speech vs. consequences.” That’s government- demanded Trump  protection   vindictive  suppression, because the punishment only flows one direction: against criticism of power . The First Amendment is supposed to protect both Kirk’s hate filled inane  religious fueled Christo-fascist  bile and  Kimmel’s mild mannered  and accurate  satire. But what you’re seeing in practice is the government and corporate media conglomerates selectively shielding one side while punishing the other. That’s why the Supreme Court’s Vullo ruling matters so much: it’s exactly the kind of unequal, government-pressured suppression the Court just said is unconstitutional. These are important issues, but no politicians are allowed to even address any issues because of the constant nonstop Trump circus. No one can even focus or understand because he's continually doing. It one. Thing that is even more stupid than the last. The important issue already occurred and that was when a vote approved the so-called right of a corporation to donate or support and fund a candidate with unlimited resources. And the American people just let that slide like nothing was even happening. What that means is that any grassroots decent human being trying to run against the corporate sponsored, dictator approved puppet has absolutely no chance of winning that office because, as the presidency of the United States just showed us, money.   Can buy  any position.   Even for a ******   He  *****  E  Jean  Carroll    and a ********* Repeated trips to Epstein's island. Repeated flight logs from the ****** Express.
0
Sep 23, 2025
Sep 23, 2025 at 7:17 PM UTC
Do you really know who Charlie Kirk was ?
Charlie Kirk:  Called  for “God’s perfect law” of stoning gay  people  to death !  Do you know how painful it is to be killed in that manner?   Constantly and. repeatedly   called women *****   dumb ****** , *****  receptacles    etc.   His main target was susceptible youth, and he spent the majority of. His early career targeting college campuses with Turning Point USA, a national conservative youth group and media platform he launched.  Potential members say they were brainwashed, coerced,        fleeced repeatedly.  and  bullied. Hazing was common and encouraged.   He openly and  cruelly   mocked trans people, saying someone identifying as  trans is akin to a white person putting on blackface. Pushed “great replacement” trash,   doubled and tripled down on the whole Haitians eating pets thing   called  for  open hate   and  condoned  violence.  he’s discussing real deaths of school  kids  as acceptable collateral, which is morally grotesque said it was just.......“an unfortunate cost”  ...     ALL  with corporate sponsors and social media reach. No  self-righteous, self important CARR  and the    FCC chair threatening   him   or  his ridiculous dog and pony circus of a  lopsided hate  filled   GOP  propaganda  labeled  as  a show .   No  stations    lost  licenses over that.    Charli could (and did) spew YEARS   of hate filled   , racist misogynist. bile . Uncorroborated. Unchecked.  dogwhistles, anti-LGBTQ screeds, conspiracy theories  . etc ad  infinitum.... all the while defending violent extremist movements. Including, but not limited to, attacking gays at funerals and AIDS victims. The worst type of mental garbage anyone could possibly imagine cranked all the way past 11. All of it dressed up as “political commentary.” As vile as it is, the Constitution protects that speech because it’s viewpoint. The First Amendment doesn’t let the government say: “We like this opinion but not that one.” It only makes very narrow carve-outs (direct incitement to imminent violence, true threats , obscenity, terrorism etc.). Kirk’s   non stop  SEWAGE    apparently   didn’t cross that legal threshold, so it’s   some  how shielded. Meanwhile, when Kimmel drops one pointed line  like... “hey, that shooter looks like one of yours” suddenly the  full  trump  hammer drops. That’s not about protecting decency. That’s about selective enforcement. Here’s the hypocrisy in plain language: Jimmy Kimmel: makes a single satirical jab pointing out an uncomfortable political truth, and suddenly affiliates yank his show Disney  cowards capitulate.   and suspends him, FCC chair   threatens  at regulatory action. That’s not “free speech vs. consequences.” That’s government- demanded Trump  protection   vindictive  suppression, because the punishment only flows one direction: against criticism of power . The First Amendment is supposed to protect both Kirk’s hate filled inane  religious fueled Christo-fascist  bile and  Kimmel’s mild mannered  and accurate  satire. But what you’re seeing in practice is the government and corporate media conglomerates selectively shielding one side while punishing the other. That’s why the Supreme Court’s Vullo ruling matters so much: it’s exactly the kind of unequal, government-pressured suppression the Court just said is unconstitutional. These are important issues, but no politicians are allowed to even address any issues because of the constant nonstop Trump circus. No one can even focus or understand because he's continually doing. It one. Thing that is even more stupid than the last. The important issue already occurred and that was when a vote approved the so-called right of a corporation to donate or support and fund a candidate with unlimited resources. And the American people just let that slide like nothing was even happening. What that means is that any grassroots decent human being trying to run against the corporate sponsored, dictator approved puppet has absolutely no chance of winning that office because, as the presidency of the United States just showed us, money.   Can buy  any position.   Even for a ******   He  *****  E  Jean  Carroll    and a ********* Repeated trips to Epstein's island. Repeated flight logs from the ****** Express.
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73
When Will It STOP By: Honorine Shabani When will we feel safe going out? When will children feel safe going to school? When will we stop losing our loved ones? When will mothers stop shedding tears? When will one crowd under fire stop? When will homicides and sucide stop? When will mental disorders stop being taken as a joke? Let's stop using guns just for fun Let’s live in harmony and stop judging Let’s dishonorary the act of violence and hate Let’s stop the killing and start loving Stop hashtags and start doing actions Let’s stop our community from being broken Let’s stop families being bit Let’s work together and stop gun violence LET’S BE ONE, USA
0
Oct 1, 2021
Oct 1, 2021 at 10:51 AM UTC
When Will It STOP
people **** people with nothing but fingers and hair and their very heavy breath. their breath like a crow beak before crucifixes of straw. like a tightening banishment of a lung. remember when we would blow it onto our car window and create that consistent mirth of fog to begin in? the bodies riddled with bullets that flank the highway are no such thing. the schoolchildren lying face down in the corner of the closet are no such thing. they are just winter coats with schoolchildren to fill them for the time being. no amputation of what’s mine will aid them into the grave. no mass communication grief. so why would you call it a mass grave when in truth it was just a pit i dug to fill with crowds of people who died under the pretense that they had previously done so, that nothing was new under the sun. and when people **** people like people do with their instruments as ways of extending themselves into the world and into the marrow of our body obliterating organs of people with their stretching of the muscular rib, shoulder. one eye closes firmly. it’s nothing but a hand gun as if to say a hand eats the gun and makes it whole. as if to say the reinforced metal door exit plan for people who are being killed by other people clicked shut and locked 15,000 years ago and i can’t quit slamming what’s left of me into it. your kid is very dead. but then again so is mine. suppose they killed each other. suppose they both made the mistake of dragging their small, stupid bodies through the trajectory of another body in the first place. in the chip aisle of a gas station maybe. in theaters this christmas. in the midst of a good song that began playing on the lobby radio just a minute before, oh yeah before, things really got going. i saw people killing people on television the other day with their whole bodies, devouring themselves like surgical gloves slick with oiled consumption and bleeding out and i could do nothing. some kids died just because and they told me so and i was told nothing could ever help them because they were just people and they were dying. “breaking news” ended up just being people again. in those moments, i was eating breakfast. our houses were very quiet and needed me in all of them, grandfather clock over CNN, clarifying what has already been committed and committed again. the cipher was others lost blood.
0
Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 12:24 AM UTC
clarification
people **** people with nothing but fingers and hair and their very heavy breath. their breath like a crow beak before crucifixes of straw. like a tightening banishment of a lung. remember when we would blow it onto our car window and create that consistent mirth of fog to begin in? the bodies riddled with bullets that flank the highway are no such thing. the schoolchildren lying face down in the corner of the closet are no such thing. they are just winter coats with schoolchildren to fill them for the time being. no amputation of what’s mine will aid them into the grave. no mass communication grief. so why would you call it a mass grave when in truth it was just a pit i dug to fill with crowds of people who died under the pretense that they had previously done so, that nothing was new under the sun. and when people **** people like people do with their instruments as ways of extending themselves into the world and into the marrow of our body obliterating organs of people with their stretching of the muscular rib, shoulder. one eye closes firmly. it’s nothing but a hand gun as if to say a hand eats the gun and makes it whole. as if to say the reinforced metal door exit plan for people who are being killed by other people clicked shut and locked 15,000 years ago and i can’t quit slamming what’s left of me into it. your kid is very dead. but then again so is mine. suppose they killed each other. suppose they both made the mistake of dragging their small, stupid bodies through the trajectory of another body in the first place. in the chip aisle of a gas station maybe. in theaters this christmas. in the midst of a good song that began playing on the lobby radio just a minute before, oh yeah before, things really got going. i saw people killing people on television the other day with their whole bodies, devouring themselves like surgical gloves slick with oiled consumption and bleeding out and i could do nothing. some kids died just because and they told me so and i was told nothing could ever help them because they were just people and they were dying. “breaking news” ended up just being people again. in those moments, i was eating breakfast. our houses were very quiet and needed me in all of them, grandfather clock over CNN, clarifying what has already been committed and committed again. the cipher was others lost blood.
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53
I pledge allegiance To the discourse Of the divided states of mind And to the guns For which they hold One crowd Under fire Inescapable With funerals and bullets For all
0
Aug 6, 2019
Aug 6, 2019 at 12:28 PM UTC
A Child's Pledge of Allegiance
More wicked than ***** that ***** mourns More evil than Satan, that Satan's justified Lot, tormented in his soul, rescued So shall it be the Righteous' lot The Angel of Darkness shall descend And ***** sits in Judgement seat
0
Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 10:08 PM UTC
The Fall of the USA
How many more children have to die before we stop believing the lie that America is safe and America is great and that we all live under the rule of a really great guy? Before all our children don't need to vie just to survive going to school and coming out again alive? Before mental disorders stop being the brunt end of a joke and that maybe there might be hope that those who suffer don't have to walk on a tightrope? What about when we can start living in harmony? When we stop judging others and start shunning dishonorary acts of violence acts of hate and acts of crime before it's to late? How many more children have to die? How many? How many? How many? How many??? -Spider
0
May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 11:29 PM UTC
How Many?
Here in America, we improvise morgues as needed. in the cafeterias or by the lockers, near the ticket booths, and at the altars. We divvy up the dead. Tally them and report the number like an answer. 13, 20, 49, 58, 6 Every death count a timely national shock. Almost as if our well-televised monthly tragedy was ever anything less than a game of roulette. anything less than a matter of time and time and time again. Covering them each with our bed sheets, we try and stifle it. Do our best to staunch the the sights, the noises, (“just like chairs falling”) the names that keep bleeding out onto our thoughts and tongues, Far too much and too often not to choke on. Here in America, we’ve learned that horror is level-headed. It is debatable. It is pangless. It seeps, deep to the core, perverting with a silent smile. the steady, feverish dread weaving itself into the mundane. the “god help us” annulled by the “respectfully disagreed” the nightmare that lies always just underneath, and just out of mind, Until it insinuates itself Again and again... Here, in America We line the bodies, death slumped, and bled out on the pavement. We arrange them- Side by side. Most are missing things- a hat, a piece of face. one shoe, a dulled pencil (fill in C) phones buzzing on the ground lit up with unread messages (“Please call me”) They are missing- an upcoming 7th birthday party, (Star Wars themed) They are missing- their vacations. their first dates. their college applications. job interviews. kids. fiancées. Lined up lifeless, they are missing far too many things to gather.
0
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 3:14 PM UTC
Here, in America.
Here in America, we improvise morgues as needed. in the cafeterias or by the lockers, near the ticket booths, and at the altars. We divvy up the dead. Tally them and report the number like an answer. 13, 20, 49, 58, 6 Every death count a timely national shock. Almost as if our well-televised monthly tragedy was ever anything less than a game of roulette. anything less than a matter of time and time and time again. Covering them each with our bed sheets, we try and stifle it. Do our best to staunch the the sights, the noises, (“just like chairs falling”) the names that keep bleeding out onto our thoughts and tongues, Far too much and too often not to choke on. Here in America, we’ve learned that horror is level-headed. It is debatable. It is pangless. It seeps, deep to the core, perverting with a silent smile. the steady, feverish dread weaving itself into the mundane. the “god help us” annulled by the “respectfully disagreed” the nightmare that lies always just underneath, and just out of mind, Until it insinuates itself Again and again... Here, in America We line the bodies, death slumped, and bled out on the pavement. We arrange them- Side by side. Most are missing things- a hat, a piece of face. one shoe, a dulled pencil (fill in C) phones buzzing on the ground lit up with unread messages (“Please call me”) They are missing- an upcoming 7th birthday party, (Star Wars themed) They are missing- their vacations. their first dates. their college applications. job interviews. kids. fiancées. Lined up lifeless, they are missing far too many things to gather.
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81
I wrote a poem against gun violence because students should not have to go to school aching in fear of not making it home alive. I wrote a poem against gun violence because so many people are going to take their own lives today. I wrote a poem against gun violence because it targets women, minorities, to the point where they cannot be outside of their homes in the evenings. I wrote a poem against gun violence because too many veterans are at risk of dying by their own hands I wrote a poem against gun violence because mental health is SERIOUS I wrote a poem against gun violence because I am an aunt of two and I want my nephews to live full, happy lives I want to ask my legislators what they’re going to do when they come for their children Their spouses Nieces, and nephews Grandchildren Friends Call me a snowflake, if you will If that’s what standing for what’s right makes me, then I’m proud of it I’m the snowflake that wants you all to stay alive That stands for what’s right when they don’t have the guts to And sweetheart, this snowflake doesn’t melt
0
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 8:14 PM UTC
A poem against gun violence
fuel desperation, and so are valuable assets in the game of spinning chambers. one ***** is all it takes. you might not believe a person still wading through adolescence could harbor such malevolent intent. one slight is all it takes. age is barely even a consideration when haunted by the desire for revenge or need of self-preservation. one fragile moment is all it takes. fewer years simply equate to shallower perspective, exacerbating youthful impulsivity. one bullet is all it takes.
0
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 12:40 PM UTC
Closeted Apparitions
Everyday there’s a new story A new plea that goes ignored An outcry for protection That the government “can’t afford” A community is broken A family in bits A mother holds her dead son It didn’t need to be like this “My thoughts and prayers are with you” What’s that gonna do? It’s easy enough to stand back When it isn’t affecting you People post on social media About the horrors of the crime But how can they truly comment When their school isn’t next in line? A march to show the ‘big men’ What their little minds can’t see Real humans suffering At the word “death” they turn and flee A 15-year-old boy bleeds His life already done He wants someone to hold him His last word escapes, “Mom” This is real, this is wrong This is happening now Children scared of education In case they get shot down So, now forget the hashtags Now forget the thoughts Now we need action Not more ****** news reports.
0
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 1:20 PM UTC
Gun Violence
There are mothers of daughters and mothers first in Australia, South Africa,                                                                       the United States, Pennsylvania. And it is in the garden of the queen's initials, sufficient satisfaction       is the image of the standard of living in the extreme in Kenya, the poet 2,                    |  a number of shadows of what was to be alive. It was filthy, the same is waiting for me, my wife, she left the girl went out to the officer of my old school he wanted to be in genuine, I am of French into the month of Abner went also to the children of the missing girl was his strong holds to store the Young the girl's parts of the of the wall of Europe and the stones,                                                       O God, Freedom, Robert Diva natural to Christ of the tongue of peace,                     the cities of United States American art, I hand the educational escort open call 'in human history     Allawi to open its independence beach games too loudly,         the idea of ​​a Christian is the father, Google park city, dead hands Yumeyume what point does Google father-in-law Brazil when China is Ben Spain.                             And Computer Science, China's wealth, hidden Arsoth hobbies, simple questions, write songs a game Zip years to support scientific staff: The male child and the mother of a girl are the young death of my best female child of Australia, South Africa, Ameloca Melika, Pa, who is shining on the wonderful green night of the day Russiana the Italian Englishwoman The beautiful Jonathan Canadian of English English is dark, Joe Ji will star in the color of skin, a large gold braid positioned III: The early standard of life of the moon                                              of the house of change of edible acid The breath of the standard life is like my nuke; The face of age and satisfaction for him Because of the shadow of the number of lives with the high image of the Queen of Kenya of a female poet of a VI person,                                a red baby in the garden, wait here I lost my old school who left the police of my wife 's French in VII moon, from a girl who went to the true *** who came to eat, robot elder; A son of a girl,        a young man of the Jewish people who changes in radius, a daughter from the walls to a part of Europa, and the stone is Robert Utahigashi Jesu's                                In order to open the freedom of Torakia SEN from the hand, it is necessary to open the liberty of God from the natural language of peace, the name of a friend of USA, the art,                  the history of human beings, the coast of Italia                    It is not a space for the game of the heartbrow, it is not a Brazilian son of Google's father-in-law is the son of Google's father in the city's Yumeji Park where the hands of that color                              The deceased Christians, China, Spain, who deceived the idea that is limited to the inside,                      got the idea of ​​regenerating the happy tree Baloo in the form of a poem master Tell me about the beat calling by writing a long snooch entrance long time sports center About the science of sound wild Saudi Arabia Asia-Street Country Will, Difficult Security: The museum's clothes are consumers' From science and scientific assistance of computer science, the richness of China, the hidden eleistor of the bobbies, Simple question to write playback songs This means free care that waits for unknown doors to the present age: Home field of the mail, Australia, South Africa, USA, Mothers and Women in Pennsylvania. This statue of a vegetable hawker is a queen of great satisfaction in Kenya,                                                               of some shadows, visible to the poet. To me, the same watchfulness is garbage. My husband and my son want to be honest with me, I was missing a woman; His strong point was to keep a wall with young men, walls, and stones Abenam,     French, I went to the beach, town park, one Christian father, Google - idea very high, God, freedom, Robert elm-ha, natural language,                                                      Christ's peace in the United It is the open call of the cities in the United States, the history of Allawi's history, Some of them died on that point, Google-Google-,      Brazil, China, and Spain ben-meyume. Computer science, Chinese treasures, arsofia hobbies, writing games in simple questions, writing zip-scientific support staff from songs.
0
Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 11:32 PM UTC
For the Victims of the Shooting at the Newport Mall - unknown doors to the present age [1/1/19]
There are mothers of daughters and mothers first in Australia, South Africa,                                                                       the United States, Pennsylvania. And it is in the garden of the queen's initials, sufficient satisfaction       is the image of the standard of living in the extreme in Kenya, the poet 2,                    |  a number of shadows of what was to be alive. It was filthy, the same is waiting for me, my wife, she left the girl went out to the officer of my old school he wanted to be in genuine, I am of French into the month of Abner went also to the children of the missing girl was his strong holds to store the Young the girl's parts of the of the wall of Europe and the stones,                                                       O God, Freedom, Robert Diva natural to Christ of the tongue of peace,                     the cities of United States American art, I hand the educational escort open call 'in human history     Allawi to open its independence beach games too loudly,         the idea of ​​a Christian is the father, Google park city, dead hands Yumeyume what point does Google father-in-law Brazil when China is Ben Spain.                             And Computer Science, China's wealth, hidden Arsoth hobbies, simple questions, write songs a game Zip years to support scientific staff: The male child and the mother of a girl are the young death of my best female child of Australia, South Africa, Ameloca Melika, Pa, who is shining on the wonderful green night of the day Russiana the Italian Englishwoman The beautiful Jonathan Canadian of English English is dark, Joe Ji will star in the color of skin, a large gold braid positioned III: The early standard of life of the moon                                              of the house of change of edible acid The breath of the standard life is like my nuke; The face of age and satisfaction for him Because of the shadow of the number of lives with the high image of the Queen of Kenya of a female poet of a VI person,                                a red baby in the garden, wait here I lost my old school who left the police of my wife 's French in VII moon, from a girl who went to the true *** who came to eat, robot elder; A son of a girl,        a young man of the Jewish people who changes in radius, a daughter from the walls to a part of Europa, and the stone is Robert Utahigashi Jesu's                                In order to open the freedom of Torakia SEN from the hand, it is necessary to open the liberty of God from the natural language of peace, the name of a friend of USA, the art,                  the history of human beings, the coast of Italia                    It is not a space for the game of the heartbrow, it is not a Brazilian son of Google's father-in-law is the son of Google's father in the city's Yumeji Park where the hands of that color                              The deceased Christians, China, Spain, who deceived the idea that is limited to the inside,                      got the idea of ​​regenerating the happy tree Baloo in the form of a poem master Tell me about the beat calling by writing a long snooch entrance long time sports center About the science of sound wild Saudi Arabia Asia-Street Country Will, Difficult Security: The museum's clothes are consumers' From science and scientific assistance of computer science, the richness of China, the hidden eleistor of the bobbies, Simple question to write playback songs This means free care that waits for unknown doors to the present age: Home field of the mail, Australia, South Africa, USA, Mothers and Women in Pennsylvania. This statue of a vegetable hawker is a queen of great satisfaction in Kenya,                                                               of some shadows, visible to the poet. To me, the same watchfulness is garbage. My husband and my son want to be honest with me, I was missing a woman; His strong point was to keep a wall with young men, walls, and stones Abenam,     French, I went to the beach, town park, one Christian father, Google - idea very high, God, freedom, Robert elm-ha, natural language,                                                      Christ's peace in the United It is the open call of the cities in the United States, the history of Allawi's history, Some of them died on that point, Google-Google-,      Brazil, China, and Spain ben-meyume. Computer science, Chinese treasures, arsofia hobbies, writing games in simple questions, writing zip-scientific support staff from songs.
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Have the trees all fallen? / In my absence, Did the lights turn out in Santa Fe? I’m walking in a shadow, Cast by who knows what because The skyline’s bare / Now the leaves are gone, And in their wake the branches Lie gutted on the pavement Stripped to shiny bones That smile and smile, The call to arms blares out So sickly sweet / A mind rang out across the room That blazed so hot we’ll never know And in one blazing human breath They breathed their last / to think they were children they were just children / I feel a great and quiet darkness Has snuffed out those sparks That could have ignited the world And so I wonder How many million seconds, meant to be, Now never will? / Do good men die so other men Might learn, or worse still, win? Will those sparks Snuffed out in Santa Fe Ignite this world of apathy To shame? / I ask again, Have the trees all fallen Down in Santa Fe?
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Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 5:41 PM UTC
21.5.18 - "The Lights in Santa Fe"
You tried to pull a gun on me. I just pulled mine faster But what you don't know is Three days later I put my gun to my head. I couldn't live with the fact That I almost pulled the trigger on you That I was ready to stop your threat. What you don't know is one month later I still had nightmares That I overdosed on pills Hoping to never wake up. Six months later I still see your face I still think of the what ifs One year later I still wake up screaming Fighting your invisible threat. One year and six months later You voice still haunts me. You were eager to **** be because I wore a badge and gun. My coworkers ***** me. Two against me. What you two didnt see The detectives interrogated me. Told me I asked for it I should have fought back One day later the detective picks me up I tried over dosing minutes before they came They noticed the cuts but didn't notice That I was falling fast I couldn't keep my eyes open. My speech was slurring I walked like i was drunk I made it through the **** kit I got home and slept for three days straight One month later i quit my job. My body couldn't handle the stress I kept dissociating. Six months later I still couldn't have *** I started learning jujitsu I had bought a gun One year later I was more confident But i still feared *** I feared men I still had nightmares Two years later I'm still managing to struggle I still hear your voices Still see your faces Still feel you in my dreams Two years and six months later I'm more confident. I still have difficulty with men. But now I am well on my way to be a police officer An EMT I can't let you win! Ever!
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Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 11:52 PM UTC
Memories
You tried to pull a gun on me. I just pulled mine faster But what you don't know is Three days later I put my gun to my head. I couldn't live with the fact That I almost pulled the trigger on you That I was ready to stop your threat. What you don't know is one month later I still had nightmares That I overdosed on pills Hoping to never wake up. Six months later I still see your face I still think of the what ifs One year later I still wake up screaming Fighting your invisible threat. One year and six months later You voice still haunts me. You were eager to **** be because I wore a badge and gun. My coworkers ***** me. Two against me. What you two didnt see The detectives interrogated me. Told me I asked for it I should have fought back One day later the detective picks me up I tried over dosing minutes before they came They noticed the cuts but didn't notice That I was falling fast I couldn't keep my eyes open. My speech was slurring I walked like i was drunk I made it through the **** kit I got home and slept for three days straight One month later i quit my job. My body couldn't handle the stress I kept dissociating. Six months later I still couldn't have *** I started learning jujitsu I had bought a gun One year later I was more confident But i still feared *** I feared men I still had nightmares Two years later I'm still managing to struggle I still hear your voices Still see your faces Still feel you in my dreams Two years and six months later I'm more confident. I still have difficulty with men. But now I am well on my way to be a police officer An EMT I can't let you win! Ever!
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A young women took her life Just down the street A child in the school yard Found her hanging from a tree... 2 brothers got into another fight one stabbed the other over drugs Blood stained the doors He banged on for help... 6 shots broke the silence of the night Some how he's still alive Laid on the road I'm so familiar with With bullets in his head.... This place I grew up is changing maybe I'm more aware Violence all around Where does it end... children arrested for selling drugs *** trafficking Police raids In the last year I've seen it all... I refuse to give up hope This world I've brought my child into it can be a beautiful place Love can overcome hate... ........... .
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Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 9:30 PM UTC
Untitled
I see you, As I walk my beat. The soul who's life as been so rough You've turned to drugs to cope. I see you over dosing on the corner. I call for help as you become a pulseless, nonbreather, I start hands only CPR. As they dispatch help. Please don't give up. There's so much more to life. I give it my all as I hear the sirens blare in the night. But help comes to late. I stand in shock. I give my statement. I finish my shift and go home to cry. I see you, The guy trying to **** me because I wear a badge and a gun. Please don't make me shoot you. I just want to go home at night. Shoots fired, shoots fired. He's down, I gave him five warnings, “show me your hands.” I didn't want to. Really I didn't. I see you, The guys that ***** me. I see you You forced my hand. I can't walk the streets unarmed. You messed with my head, And got away with it. The nightmares come. I see them. I want them to stop. I'm so numb now. I cut myself to feel again. I see the scars. I cover them. Others cannot know I'm weak. They look up to me. The horrors I see. Will they ever stop?
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Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 9:29 AM UTC
I see you
fifteen hours. fourteen, depending on where in australia you are from. but for me, it is fifteen hours. los angeles is fifteen-hour flight from melbourne. fifteen hours on a plane, and you’ll be in america. you’ll be in a ****** country, where it almost seems like the new craze is to be a shooter, and you only get noticed if you get shot. they are begging, pleading, “please stop them from killing us, our families, our friends!” and the others say “oh, but i really love my gun.” “and i care about my gun more than i care about you.” “and i care more about my machine made to take life than about you getting to keep yours.” and that’s just that, i suppose. i am fifteen hours away from a ****** country, and i can’t tell if i’m too close or not close enough. i am fifteen hours away from a ****** country, and for some reason, that’s just fine.
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Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 9:30 PM UTC
fifteen hours
I’ll never forget that day When she lifted her head from the bed in which it was buried And with bloodshot eyes reaching through 2 black holes She asked, “Why’d they have to **** my brother?” That exact question was already in my mind. Happy Easter
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Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 10:39 AM UTC
8 Easters Ago
This whole country is a crime seen, 3rd Eye’s blurry need some Visine, driving home with one headlight, can’t see straight hit the high beams, feeling like a Wallflower that’s lost all power, praying for peace while they continue fighting, and I know I can’t stop all the violence, but that won’t stop me from trying, can’t get through to the new school, try memes, can’t get the truth through to these dudes, they keep denying, I mean what does it mean, when a black kid’s not even safe in his own yard, assassinated in his grandmother’s backyard, story retold by the grandma of Stephon Clark, trained killers hunted him down and ****** him, maybe he would’ve survived if his skin was a little less dark, maybe to see the light first we need a spark, trying to keep it together even though things seem to be falling apart, the use of deadly force is often excessive, but penalties on the killers are rarely enforced, as if a police officer’s badge is a license to **** it’s not any less savage because they’re in uniform, what does that say of our society, when boys getting killed my men is the norm, and us kids are sick of it more than a little bit, school shootings cop shooting what’s going on, and where are our leaders at times like this, I mean shout out to Emma Gonzalez, I respect her heart and congratulate her courage, but why do adults have to learn from kids, where are our role models, where is the love, global warming it’s heating up, still kids get killed in cold blood, this is not a front, I’m not fronting, I’m not faking, I’m whole foods, they’re all bacon, fat no protein, facts no smoke dreams, fact is these pros need practice, because this whole country’s a crime scene, every day another cover up, got cameras on every block, still when a kid gets shot, it seems like the body cams are always covered up, how can it be 2018, where we’re constantly under surveillance, yet we never see the footage of cops, when they shoot civilians, and I’m trying to stay patient, but I’m running out a patience, and it’s not just cops killing kids, kids are killing kids too, but most people don’t even want to hear about it, let alone actually get up and move, wanna know how many people have been killed by guns, millions and millions in the United States alone, and no one is safe not even a 22 year old kid, siting in the backyard of his grandmother’s home, this whole place is a Danger Zone, this whole country is a crime seen, 3rd Eye’s blurry need some Visine, driving home with one headlight, can’t see straight hit the high beams, feeling like a Wallflower that’s lost all power, praying for peace while they continue fighting, and I know I can’t stop all the violence, but that won’t stop me from trying… ∆ Aaron La Lux ∆ New Book FREE Here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005
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Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 6:39 PM UTC
Crime Scene USA
This whole country is a crime seen, 3rd Eye’s blurry need some Visine, driving home with one headlight, can’t see straight hit the high beams, feeling like a Wallflower that’s lost all power, praying for peace while they continue fighting, and I know I can’t stop all the violence, but that won’t stop me from trying, can’t get through to the new school, try memes, can’t get the truth through to these dudes, they keep denying, I mean what does it mean, when a black kid’s not even safe in his own yard, assassinated in his grandmother’s backyard, story retold by the grandma of Stephon Clark, trained killers hunted him down and ****** him, maybe he would’ve survived if his skin was a little less dark, maybe to see the light first we need a spark, trying to keep it together even though things seem to be falling apart, the use of deadly force is often excessive, but penalties on the killers are rarely enforced, as if a police officer’s badge is a license to **** it’s not any less savage because they’re in uniform, what does that say of our society, when boys getting killed my men is the norm, and us kids are sick of it more than a little bit, school shootings cop shooting what’s going on, and where are our leaders at times like this, I mean shout out to Emma Gonzalez, I respect her heart and congratulate her courage, but why do adults have to learn from kids, where are our role models, where is the love, global warming it’s heating up, still kids get killed in cold blood, this is not a front, I’m not fronting, I’m not faking, I’m whole foods, they’re all bacon, fat no protein, facts no smoke dreams, fact is these pros need practice, because this whole country’s a crime scene, every day another cover up, got cameras on every block, still when a kid gets shot, it seems like the body cams are always covered up, how can it be 2018, where we’re constantly under surveillance, yet we never see the footage of cops, when they shoot civilians, and I’m trying to stay patient, but I’m running out a patience, and it’s not just cops killing kids, kids are killing kids too, but most people don’t even want to hear about it, let alone actually get up and move, wanna know how many people have been killed by guns, millions and millions in the United States alone, and no one is safe not even a 22 year old kid, siting in the backyard of his grandmother’s home, this whole place is a Danger Zone, this whole country is a crime seen, 3rd Eye’s blurry need some Visine, driving home with one headlight, can’t see straight hit the high beams, feeling like a Wallflower that’s lost all power, praying for peace while they continue fighting, and I know I can’t stop all the violence, but that won’t stop me from trying… ∆ Aaron La Lux ∆ New Book FREE Here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005
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