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I remember the nightmare– No, the February afternoon– When the garden shifted for what we dream could be the last time It was impossible to watch such a disgusting tragedy But our eyes were clawed open
“There’s a walkout” was whispered, planned, carried out. At ten a.m. some filed out, avoided the stares and glares and skeptical looks. We met in the quad, we shared our thoughts, acknowledged that prayers just weren’t enough.
The doors were never locked Always open The children never scared Always feeling safe and never out of place
We need to have control. Not control on how we’re taught or what we wear, but on the weapons put on display to be seen everywhere.
As a kid two brothers on either side of my timeline our play time was mostly outside, playing violent baseball and digging up worms for fishing. In doing this I never understood
RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING! There goes the bell for the first period of my high school monotony Yet, with each shattering clang of metal, my heart beats faster
Author's Note: I wrote this the day after the Stoneman Douglas Shooting on February Fourteenth, 2018.
I have been well acquainted with you, Death I have walked fearlessly --- and trembling back I have survived and heard their dying breath
my dad and i sit in the car discussing the parkland shooting and he says to me, “the media did a good job this time making sure they got all the kids upset.”“the media?” i ask.“yeah, it’s not like you guys were gonna do anything.
Y’all will never changeY’all will never changeTalk about the hateBut y’all still causing pain Nd Y’all won’t neva bang Cause Y’all can’t neva rideWhy y’all Watched him dieOn ya Insta live ?
Do you need it? Do you need the capability to take a life? Does the life on the other end of the gun have less value than yours? Do you need to allow your anger to result in the pulling of a lethal trigger?
One shot Two shot Three shot four Mama doesnt wanna send her kids to school anymore One down Two down Three down galore Tell me why are voices are so easy to ignore My life His life
How many more need to die? I wonder why. I wonder how many families cry because The till is filled, but even still One bullet, two kills.
stop taping young people’s mouths shut and telling us where our places are stop screaming over the voices of tomorrow and stop telling us we don’t know what we’re talking about
for lives lost at the end of a gun and those wounded at the hands of a bullet i pray for your peace but more importantly i pray for your justice
Decrease the heat, in the streets, It's lethal, Increase the peace, murder beats, Not people.
Dear the Future, Can you see us? Can you see the wounds, Can you see the deaths, Can you see the grief, Can you see the fear? Do you remember us? Do you know how many fear the future?
The heavy metal became the pedal for the pedestal at the federal level. The ones who control take the toll of soul, painting black. The ones who've yelled pull to the man in black,
It’s sickening. Makes me want to vomit. Makes me wonder what this Earth wants And why everyone’s on it. 2018 was supposed to be The year I graduate,
10 Years from now, we’ll still be here; Arguing if measures will help the defenseless. The ever present fear will always be near. There’s no reason to allow the Left to put me in fear,
We’ve stated concerns about the fears of violence in our halls, then waited silently as we burn. For some reason dress codes are stricter than our gun laws,
He drew a line and stood behind it and dared not step across, he said, my principals are just no matter what your loss. He has rights he must defend but our children pay the cost,
As shards of death now ricochet through chalk-dust and despair and adolescents cower in heartbeat cupboards under stairs; as blood encrusted peepholes fear that darkness does not care,
i walked out for what i hope to be a better future can't you see these devices called guns are killing us all
Guns, Bombs, Air raids. I watch in awe as the laughtr fades. One dead body, Three more on their way. I wonder what their parents will say. You start to wonder,
I take a knee In solidarity With my oppressed brothers and sisters For I am not free
Heart stops builts fly out people dropping like the autumn leafs but theres no doubt about it and i'll shout it out that the grief will eventally end bang bang bloody dollars fill up your pockets
If we are old enough to get shot we are old enough to speak up If we are old enough to buy guns we are old enough to play the drums of war
Use your Voice. Not a Gun. Education is the best opportunity my poverty-ridden eyes have seen.
Brazen youth facing the sun, we viewed the skies Azure blue temple spreads for miles from my eyes, forests and beaches and foreign lands, we build new fleet A city that never dies vibrating beneath our feet
Every day there’s a new tragedy plaguing the headlines of newspapers and magazines When did we forget how to love? instead learn how to hate
28 That's how many shootings have happened In my 17 years of life 28 That's how many times I've watched Faces and names scroll across screen Lives lost, loved ones heart broken
A Defense From Tyranny By: Nicholas Boesch Why own guns? One might ask. And another might say Why let the government get in your way?
War hungry yet peace seeking. Assault rifles for protection. White privilege in a country built on immigrants. Home of the brave but afraid of innocent Muslims.
In America, we are free To do what we wish Thus, with joy we cry And oh how we pray That freedom has not died For if she dies we are lost
Faces facing forward, Focus Fixated on the Flag. God Bless America, Land of the Free and those Good-for-Nothing Mexican Scumbags. Hand over Heart, Hand over Ears, over Eyes,
Orlando. <br/>Another name now shorthand for tragedy.<br/>Another line drawn in time, <br/>A before and after, <br/>Things will never be the same.<br/>Another mass shooting.
Pursuit of happiness, liberty, and life, tell yourself that it is how it is But where’s happiness and liberty when there’s no life to begin with? Don’t make no sense Ever since 2008, Obama has been on the debate
I think it's officially my lifeI hear original narratives and think of all the people going through strifeIt's plaguing their lives and here I am writing about my #FirstWorldProblems
What is this piece in my hand? The bullet and bullet shells coordinate as a band. It sometimes be on water or land. As time evolve, we evolve at the same time that a musket looks like a papergun
With the power to destroy in their own hands Rage and indignation dominate their stands Fearless and unknowing of the consequence This only leaves me questioning their competence
Closing the lockers, I head to class. I smile at friends and laugh at jokes. A normal day really. The clock is ticking, counting my last moments. Of course, I don't know that.
Another child. Another friend. Another son. Another daughter. Another neighbor. Another cousin. Another mother. Another father. Another lover. Another classmate.
The mouth of the metal monster the maw of the morbid mother the giver of gold or gall picking out the particular person plucking out precious people maker of more monopolies
I have always dreamed of being a toy train. Spreading smiles on happy boyish faces But have I ever drawn a smile on a face?
A heart pressed like a flower between ribcage pages every beat blooming in the blouse in the backseat the blood fertilizing gravel that will never grow to seed if it does it never grows nice things
once aGain, lives were lost,
If I could change just one thing What could possibly suffice? Could I break the bonds of hatred,and save an unborn life? Could I pause the hands of time for just one reason, a reason To cling?
Its crazy how mothers and fathers Bury their children now days One day they conceive em And then their fading away Out of your life And out of your way Got police knocking At your door
On my path, I'm headed for hell Today, I snuck in God's house 'cause he don't know me that well But upon entrance a preacher caught me and called me by name He said "I don't know why you're here, but I'm glad that you came,"