My Weapon

It was warm and thick, the blood that rushed between my fingers.

I could hear him whimpering and it was a sound that entered my ears,

and lingered.

 I was just a spectator from around the corner, when the gun went off I knew, soon,

there would be a mourner.


The right to bear arms,

and did this child, this brother, not have the right to live?

These activists need to be more active.

This violence, we the people need to "outlive."

I mean do you think the mother, who lost her boy to a gun, will ever forgive,


We the people?


We, killed her son.

We the people are responsible because we have not mitigated gun crimes.

How many times will it take, the blood, how many times.


You see, we have the right of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Am I right?

Until gun violence is stopped, that is what we will see quite frequently, that sight.


And so I use my poetry like many use their guns.

My words are my weapons and in my opinion,

they are second to none.


You all are my brothers and my sisters.

So let us fight together and become victors,

in THIS war.


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