Bang, bang.
No sleeping tonight.
The Sand Man won't come,
No child will dream.
Blasphemy on sight.

The children's dreams are crushed
By Death's early greeting,
A "kiss" from a bullet
Was it fate meeting?

Grief overwhelms the parent's souls
Whose child will never grow old.
The lullabies fade to a bitter whisper
And the cries grow intense.
Reality breaks them down.

A psycho with a gun
Is even a menace to the rising sun.
Yet, no one sees it coming, no warning at all.

The innocent died and the crazy was delighted.
His thrill, blood spilled, and
The screams became shrills of yesterday's life.
His vulgar grin, blinding the bright sun.

Darkness was among the town.
Yet, no gun control,
Where is the peace of mind, body, and soul?
Bang, bang.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741