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Poem

God is not happy
He is furious
Nineteen lawmen standing in a hallway
While nineteen fourth-grade students get slaughtered
With an automatic rifle

Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam
Children who are texting for help
Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam
Children who are as helpless as their teachers
Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam

God sends his wrath into Uvalde, Texas
In the form of a storm seen at no other time in history
The souls of the students watch this display of anger
They had known it was possible
But never before had a front row seat

It happens, their angels tell them
Not often, but sometimes
Especially in the USA where money means more than children.
The lightning strikes are loud; the thunder is fearsome.
Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam

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