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
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