SHOOTER HAS A NAME
NOW THE POLITICAL GAME
ARE OUT TO DEFAME
If I had a marshmallow shooter, I would pelt my friend
Her craving for marshmallows would come to an end.
These soft squishy sticky sweets would be all over her lawn
And stuck to every sweater and dress she tried on
I would make sure there were marshmallows in her hair.
She would have to take them with her everywhere.
I would give her minis, and the colored ones too.
By the end of the day, she would despise this goo.
Silver bullets have no eyes
They care not who is hit
American schools where bullets fly
Terrorizing the staff and kids
The shooter often a kid as well
This time he is a 14 year old
His father arrested headed to jail
How much about his child did he know
The photo they splash on the tv
Of a blonde haired student teen
Surely a nightmare who could dream
So tender of age to be so mean
Two teachers two students gone forever
Killed by a teen with gun access
Families torn apart love is severed
How can you not feel distressed
As prayers go up we look now
To the parents of this young man
What reasons in his life will be found
That he would cause death with his hand
His mother surely feels regret
Obviously he was deeply disturbed
The nation again is utterly upset
Gun violence hits a sensitive nerve
Dilemma Minichu
kill thrill, rage unfolded?
a youth's pebbles become hollow bullets inflight
killer molded
sunken, aloof
might never makes right, but blight
lone wolf
hate ills
endemic plight
kills!
kill thrill, rage unfolded?
might never makes right but blight
kills!
The day begins with the usual drill.
Plans in readiness, we will fulfil.
Crouch under your desk and stay quite still,
Keep your eyes down, use your skill.
Don’t look up, this I must instil.
Try to be as quiet, not a sound if you will.
We practice this drill not to give you a chill,
It’s so important to do this safety grill.
If a shooter comes in, we know to do nil
We learn this so that we will be safe until.
The scene has been given a clear bill.
We know we must not cry or let out a shrill.
Teacher says chances of being hurt, are nil,
If we do as we are told and all be very still.
Ravenous dream, cluttered and unclean.
Aberrant darkness, hideous and unseen.
Raging killer, seething; hardly breathing.
Raving butcher, leaving death and bleeding.
What demons lurk for a murderer in a gay enclave?
Name the repressed desires by which the slayer is enslaved.
How many kills kill off latent amorous specters in his heart?
Craven homophobe assassinates his shadow from the start.
What torrent of torment molds a gay executioner?
What self-loathing this child of incendiary invectives?
What self-shaming open wounds forever fester?
What ambiguous mask to hide the emotive?
What type of culture is so threatened by how we love?
What perversion of fear breeds within so many thereof?
What sinister civilization spreads this hate potion?
What dogma of night terrors releases this poison?
Ravenous phantoms, virulent apparitions,
The shooter never lacking in ammunition.
Delicate petals hold ethereal love and kindness.
The rifleman can never kill them in his blindness.
People now walk up to copper,
Where Gold isn't for the hoper
And silver starves seekers proper:
Every single eager shopper...
Then go for the waiting copper,
Gold bound to be a Heart Stopper;
From behind bullets The Dropper
Your shooter off with his chopper.
Also, with your Gold - Changed Pauper;
You as dead as the grasshopper
That manure secures for a cropper...
Only go for precious Gold,
When it isn't hot to hold
Denied a beer
no I.D.
only eighteen,
so naturally he bought
a semi-auto rifle.
The silent mad
go bad.
Such a predicament.
Sorrow weeps, reason sleeps.
Background checks
buried now in graveyard grounds.
No more back to school.
When we don’t a lunatic fetter,
Sanity does not look quite better;
When A Sluggard is The Pace Setter,
Things begin to happen much later:
An Aquarian Chosen Go-getter,
A lot tend to be rather wetter;
Everyone A Well-Trained Sharp Shooter
Exchange of Gunfire The Redder;
One deciding to be A Looter
Many Shaky Accounts The Redder …
I’ve told you what usually follow
And why my laughs are sometimes hollow.
The shooter from the train was sought
When police received a tip
And now it seems that he’s been caught;
To jail he’ll take a trip.
You’d think that in New York he’d find
So many spots to hide
Where he could leave no trace behind
With lots of time to bide.
Yet rarely someone in a scrape
(Or worse) evades the law
For each attempt at swift escape
Contains a fatal flaw.
New Yorkers now must heave a sigh
But not just of relief.
Despite the fact they caught the guy,
We’re filled with fear and grief.
Active shooter intruder training
A serious business here in the U.S.
We teachers have to take a refresher course every year
This reflects my fear that guns are too easily purchased
Shame on lawmakers who allow everyone to have assault rifles
We are learning lock out, get out, and take out.
Take out is horrifying.
It involves being violent ourselves.
Last resort, but still, I am shaking after this training.
Shame on the lawmakers.
What happens in Vegas
Stays in Vegas
Never more true
Than to the 59
Who are never coming back
From a sickening attack
The so called lucky must face
With memories of why
And what comes next
Coming to terms
With why me
What rotten good luck
My life befell
The shooters aim
Out of frame his bullets missed
The reaper's clock
Whispers knocked
On death next door on blood stained floor
Take from today till morrow dawn's
Another breath another day
For this is not your lucky day
But come tomorrow
Hug most dear that which you fear
You have not lost
And count in cost the rise of eyes
For beyond the lies
And enterprise of all that's evil
Are living people
Who can be taken away at the win of a trigger
The sunset strip will never prize
From the pain of loss
On a blood stained cross
Who forgot
Where
Mother
Daughters
Father
Sons
Human Creatures
Flesh and Bone
Life had done you wrong
Had taken away your song
You felt you didn’t belong
But why couldn’t you be strong?
You went on a shooting craze
Left behind a bloody maze
And little children in a daze
Did you think you’d get praise?
You had demons in your mind
So an outlet you had to find
Vented on children who are kind
Did self-loathing make you blind?
In the end you took your life
Left parents with nightmares rife
And pain twisting like a knife
Will there be no end to this strife?
Little children are now dead
Who will never be tucked in bed
Little classmates filled with dread
Couldn’t you kill your demon instead?
Your pain wouldn’t go away
So you made the innocent pay
Now the horror is here to stay
When you meet God, what will you say?
I'll tell you this first, guns are my curse
I was dealt Ace's and watched all their faces
Looked around and called all in
Everyone folded, but Buckshot just grinned
He moved up his stack, with a loud crack
I just love playing a maniac
I drew two cards to make him think
He drew one card and took a drink
I reached for my boot, got my Two Shooter
Buckshot flipped over his eight outer
My Ace's won, as he went for his gun
I told him "Son, you make winning fun"
I filled my boot with money as Buckshot stood up
Could have been any outcome with my sad luck
He yelled "Eat lead you no good low down cheat"
I shot him dead with that Two Shooter in my sleeve
Chubby cherub with a bow
Looks my way and spreads those wings
Seems to have his sights on me
Cupid,shoot 'em straight!
for "Winged Cupid" contest
sponsored by Dr. Ram Mehta
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