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Poem

Tell me, my friend

Did it bother you when I cried?

When I cried about the risen surface of the end?

The end of which has already granted us those who died

Those who have died from holding hands with who they choose

And those who tasted lips and an alcoholic drink

Those who had everything to lose

Those who didn’t know what to think

When it happened.

.

Tell me, my friend

Did you pray for my family from the beginning?

Or did you pray for that kind of end

While you lied through your teeth without grinning?

You see, we are more than just a community

We are more than just a band of friends

We are more than your self pity

We are more than a hashtag trend

As we lost fifty in Orlando

You suddenly began to feel upset

While we are still standing strong though

And most of you begin to feel regret

Regret from calling that kid fag

Or yelling the word dyke

Not that I like to see your smile start to sag

But you begin to understand what it is like

Though, you will never know how it feels

How it feels to be murdered by your pitiful words and guns

Yet, we have a heart of steel

And the love we have will always run.

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