Children shot down in a school again
It’s the collateral cost of freedom I’m told,
by a labeled unstable son-of-a-gun kin
He had “wild horses roaming free” in his head,
that’s what the county doctors said
As the grief-stricken soul of a community bled
His eighteenth birthday gift was a death wish:
Killing innocent kids was at the top of the list
An unpredictable behavior everybody missed
The government officials declare,
the young man was “emotionally disturbed”
But bullets don’t grey matter care
Forensic fingers paint the crime scene “evil red,”
as automatic revulsion smears their semi-stoic conscience
Cold bloody memories, they just can’t ever shed
And the true metal believers idol-ly say,
the unhinged shooter was “mentally perturbed”
Seems bullets get asylum alter ricochet
05-28-22
This hymn which is achingly beautiful,
reminds me of you.
Indication of love and it reminds me of you.
It's been quite long,
and exhausted I am, of camouflaging my feelings for you.
Never realized when I slipped in love with you.
Perturbed I am not,
I am fine.
This heart now a lunatic,
slowly slipping down to the oblivion.
Evocative thoughts of your scent,
swells up my eyes with tears.
Perturbed I am not,
I am fine,
resonance of your voice still lingers in my ears.
Evening's I ignite the lamps around your scented memory,
eyelids turn moist which once used to drench,
thinking of you.
Mutilated I am,
just left to be scattered away.
With few debris of your feel,
that still remains to quit.
Perturbed I am not,
I am fine.
©Chitra Arun Sept2021
Kids are their game for bargain
Innocence they rape for freedom
They are the men of honor of today
Are we not ashamed of our lives?
Men of intellect ,rise
keep your dreams aside
Dip your quills in the right
Keep a gun at your left
March thru bullets and missiles
Bring peace to the world
Lest our children die
Immature deaths
Know you be their parent with a will
And a love bound promise to keep
They have shed the innocent blood
The darkest stain on man kind ever
Men of intellect ,rise
Fasten your girdle to march on
There is a war on angels
For the dove of peace is bleeding
The life giving blood is wasted
The more we wait the more we die
Honor has only one death
Death for a cause and death for love
Love your enemy if enemy you know
hate the enemy if they act as friends
for love penetrates not on covetous hearts
for love wasted is the biggest sin.
Perturbed By Each Pollster
Politicians are perturbed by each pollster;
Their popularity would refuse to bolster;
Are annoyed;
Not enjoyed;
Should have parked mouth in his holster.
Jim Horn
protuberance of web in conifer garden - spider hijacks my shoulder, piqued
6/27/2018
My dear reader, please, don't be afraid
When I say stuff like discombobulate
I say big words
Because I'm a nerd
Not to label your intelligence as "up for debate"
disturbed
greatly, i feel
like a schoolgirl again.
i want to hide my face in shame.
red-cheeked.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.