Another shooting in America

Another shooting in America

I hate having to keep writing these poems because it’s getting old but people get hurt because too many guns are sold; and people’s reactions seem to be so heartless and cold. This world is a broken place; at this moment I have a sad look on my face and I can’t wait until there is peace and the violence can cease; an end to the bloodshed seems out of reach; if we could just teach love from God above because I’ve had enough of reading bad news; I wish I could shut the door on what I see because seemingly there doesn’t seem to be much hope. How do we cope in such a violent world? So I’d like to express myself if I may, but it seems I have little left to say but tears fall; hearing about all the carnage and the gore; too gruesome to ignore; so I lay on the floor and write how I feel; it’s all I can do; is tell you how I’m feeling at this very moment





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