This line wasn’t drawn yesterday or today
This line goes way back
Straight through my heart
This line is as red as the blood that
Stained Jackie’s tailored suit
In the shadow of the grassy knoll
This line hangs as heavy
As the rope that bore such
Strange and bitter fruit
This line is the scar on Gabby Giffords’ scalp
This line is the tear falling
Down a mother’s cheek
This line is hot with rage and fury
This line was uttered in Ford’s Theatre
As theatrically as ever
This line is the sting of the whip
This line is the manacle that holds you in place
This line is drawn tight
Tight as a bow whose arrow
Will take flight
On a straight line to death
This line underscores the tally
Of the lost
This line spits hot lead
Randomly
In chaos
This line kills
This line is not a drawing
It’s a pathway to oblivion
And everlasting dark
David Trudel © 2012
This is a response to this great poem by Susan Daniels:
http://susandanielseden.wordpress.com/2012/09/07/that-line/
That line
if there is
a line between free speech
& treason
between change
& revolution
between assembly
& rioting
it is fine
it is dark
& it is drawn
in blood
the problem is
it takes death
to tell the difference
Random Killings
Desperate people inflamed by hate
Ruled by frustrated passion
Resenting all they see
So they grab a gun or maybe three
Take aim at others, randomly
Inflicting pain, inflicting death
Spreading chain reactions
Of deepest misery and vengefulness
And the commentators will wring their hands
And go on to say it’s not the guns
And it sure ain’t us
The hateful bile we offer up is just for fun
So when we say that its time to aim
We don’t really mean it
It’s just a game
But clearly things are going wrong
Hot lead flying in schoolyards
And all to make a specious point
About free speech and hate and fear
Underlined in blood
And drenched in tears
David Trudel © 2012
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Filed under Poetry
Tagged as blank verse, free verse, gun violence, guns, hate, killing, poetry, random killings, sadness, social commentary, violence