26
I am a member
Of a generation
Who knows what it’s like to fear
A bang in the hallway.
I am a member
Of a generation
Who hears that bang
And feels the adrenaline
Rush through our blood,
And our muscles tense
In preparation to run.
I am a member
Of a generation
Who looks at the metal detectors
In the entryway
And wonders if it’s really enough.
I am a member
Of a generation
Who knows
That it isn’t.
I am a member
Of a generation
Who watched Sandy Hook
Fade into the distant memory
Of the past.
Fade into the distant memory
Of the people.
Fade into the distant memory
Of the politicians.
I am a member
Of a generation
Who watched Sandy Hook
And did not
Could not
Forget.
I am a member
Of a generation
Who looks at our loathing teachers
And wonder hysterically
“Would the cold,
Hateful man or woman
With nothing for us
But barbed words
And sharp scowls,
Step between us and a bullet
If that’s how the cards fell?”
I am a member
Of a generation,
Who looked at that teacher;
And knew for certain
The answer was “no”.
I am a member
Of a generation,
Who looked around the classroom
And wondered
“Which one of them
Would die first?”
“Which one of them
Would shield another with their body?”
“Which one of them
Would run without pause?”
I am a member
Of the generation
Who tries to pick a seat
Closest to the window,
So we could run
If we needed to.
I am a member
Of a generation
Who learned to huddle
In the corner,
Under tables,
In the closet,
Before we could count to
The number of children
Who died at Sandy Hook.
I am a member
Of a generation
Who watches
As more,
And more,
And more,
Children,
Innocent
Children,
Fall under a blaze of gunfire
I am a member
Of a generation
Who watches
The politicians
Send the families
“Hopes and prayers”,
And sends them nothing else,
While they line their pockets
With money and praise
From people who care
For little more
Than the rifles on their walls.
I am a member
Of a generation
Who watches
The Nation mourn
For a week,
And then move on,
Only to offer
More
“Hopes and prayers”
Next month,
When it happens again.
As though “hopes and prayers”
Would raise the fallen,
And save
The next group of children
On Death’s list.
I am a member
Of a generation
Who sees the name
Of the latest school,
And wonders
If our school
Will be next.
I am a member
Of a generation
Who sees the names
Of the latest victims
And wonders if our name,
Our friend’s name,
Our family’s name,
Will be next.
I am a member
Of a generation
Who walks into school
Everyday,
And wonders distantly
If it will be our last.
I am a member
Of a generation
Who plans for college
And wonders distantly
If we’ll even get there.
I am a member
Of a generation
That looks
At our younger siblings,
And knows
That they will know
To be afraid too.
I am a member
Of a generation
With police officers,
Who have sworn
To protect us,
That look upon a sea of
White men with machine guns,
And future's so stained
With dripping red blood,
That the names of the victims
Are unreadable,
And shoots
The black kid
With candy
Who would never
Hurt anyone.
I am a member
Of a generation
Who is tired
Of the fear,
Of the worry,
Of the jaded, dark laughter
That rings through our heads
When another one hits the news.
Because it’s either
Laugh or cry,
And if we cry,
We
Won’t
Stop.
26 died in Sandy Hook.
How many more coffins must we bury?
How many more threads must be cut?
How many more children must die
Before something changes?