ts735bSTUDENT10 | Poetry Vibe
ts735bSTUDENT10
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RUBY

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The Ghost Of Sandy Hook Elementary School

CATEGORY

just different

Views: 158

I URGE READERS OF THIS ODE TO ACT IN SUPPORT TO RESTRICT THE EASY ACCESS OF FIREARMS!

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SANDY HOOK ELEMENTARY SCHOOL RAMPAGE – December 14, 2012

Tribute to those slain at sandy hook elementary school ™

I read the terribly tragic news oh boy about unlucky kids

at a Connecticut elementary school thus a spark in me

heavily languished from deadly ploy!

The steely bullets lit tinder - kindle ling bastard

nemesis illicit throve illicit pandemonium didst sting

this papa s if his entire being hit by mortar rounds,

and his mouth hooked dry like sandy grit from cold bloody merciless killing,

whereby logical explanation does not fit!

Hours after the merciless horror, (already five years ago)

I dialed me younger sister in bend, Oregon, and over the phone did cry

per wanton massacre, and loss of innocent children,

a part of this dada did die no matter this papa

of two darling young adult daughters each day he does espy

open mouth and wide eyed Shutterfly, how the years of their lives

(And mine) ever faster fly yet, a figurative stab

to the heart tore up this gentle guy

felt obliged to blubber love for sibling,

while attempting to say hi, whereby psyche rent asunder,

who would sacrifice himself to lie!

asper distraught fathers and/or mothers heart broken for

beautiful daughters and sons only thru memories can only adore

from cleft psyche, gut-wrenching, woefully torment

searing within mind doth bore recovery from such loss

prized progeny well nigh impossible chore

haunted by priceless offspring, neither surviving

papa/ mama can never a door, not ever again hearing

soft pitter patters across floor

mental angst fraught with blood & gore

this haint mooch different, than a g.i. Joe in battle fatigues

locked in moral combat with korps indelibly etched in conscience

bent on evoking nightmares like an ogre of folk lore

once happy go lucky faces smile no more

nor will horror of grief abate,

but continue to pour inducing incessant screams

from tigress roar that remain in cerebral store

vis a vis an awful imp prim a tore hammering, nailing,

wrenching, et cetera phantoms once genetic gems of yore.

thus, upon a bed of nails or suffer any mortal pain well nigh

for my precious progeny, whose innocence like apple pie

to the core their angelic souls parental guidance

yes, sometimes oat k shun ally goes a rye

but never could this father fathom...a momentary sigh

at beauty and innocence in children flush

with zest and unbounded energy

sans novel experiences those mowed down

will NEVER BE ABLE NEW ADVENTURES TO TRY

now, he only stares blankly

at the bloody headlines wondering WHY???

 

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