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Original Poetry: Why More Guns Will Result in More Black Youth Dying

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Original Poetry: Why More Guns Will Result in More Black Youth Dying

Guns don’t feel.

With no rhyme or reasons or intent

Guns– Kill. Habitually.

Without asking names or stories.

Guns Hate.

Regardless of color, age, nationality or background.

Guns sin. Blindly.

With eyes closed.

Guns Shoot into the darkness,

Bullet holes filled with dreams of those hit while sleep walking

Guns slice lives into pie graphs.

Once whole, now half.

Guns don’t and doesn’t cry.

Tears not shed for justice, nor injustice.

Guns is ambivalent.

Never certain is what comes to past, is

Guns never laughs.

Senses of humor only cause triggers to be weak

Guns didn’t go to college

Never had privilege, or opportunity, or a chance at a happy life

Guns ruined 7 happy lives yesterday

Felt no regret for ending what he thought never was

Guns would not be objectified

Not by tools, or weapons, or systemic oppressions

Guns was clever.

Guns. Kills. Habitually.

And Youth remain one of his many victims.