Their young bones cry out to the world, “Why?”
Their please echo down the corridors of a building
so anguished it closed its doors forever,
its sounds of laughter extinguished.
The learning and camaraderie gone,
a symbolic tomb for those
whose tender bodies were carried away.

The young man in his loneliness cries, “Why?”
Hearing no answer, no explanation for the casual neglect, the perceived slights,
the emotional abandonment,
not enough ears and hands to ease his pain,
not enough hearts to care,
his anger festers in the darkness
until it overtakes his soul.

The gun store owner does not ask why,
the sale more important than the reason for such a rifle.
The profit margins of the industry are its idols,
worshiped by the free flow of weaponry
without regard for its use,
as a country allows its spokesmen
to focus only on rights, not responsibility

The young voices of a nation call out, “Why!”
their cries reverberating down the halls of power,
why their lives are not worth more than the campaign coffers,
why a generation of mothers and fathers have not
adequately protected their young,
why they must suffer more gun violence–
until the day a new silent majority
will finally raise their voices in unison and demand,
“NO MORE!”

Sharing is caring!