Ghosts and Guns

Ghosts and Guns

by Mike Lee

 

On a quiet evening

tears

and bullets

fly

in

Orlando

the city weeps

the

wind weeps

bullets

steel metal

jackets

explode

in the news

souls

falling

into

moonlight

tears

and

mothers

weep

death

poetry

written

in

blood

spilling

out

hate

on tv

screens

over

hallowed

ground

such a poor

impulse

again

a madman

escapes

life

and others

pay

eternally

guns

are

not

a

religion

why

do you

sanctify

and pray

over

them

are bullets

metal gods?

without

victims

blood

on the alter

of

death

too many

good

people

are in

graves

tonight

Oh Orlando

once more

mothers

weep

for lost

children

gone

and the

hard truth lies

armed

and ignorant

until

someone in

your family

joins

the

ghost of Orlando

then you will

understand

500 rounds

is too harsh

for

deer hunting

dealing death

to living

souls

now

someone’s

children

will never come

home

and

what is worth

the cost of

a sub-machine gun?

 

 

 

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