Twenty fourteen has barely begun;
Only fourteen days have passed
‘Ere we see the hell
That a sick show and tell
In a middle-school has amassed.
‘Tis a preteen with a loaded shotgun.
Too soon again, my heart is bleeding
And my faith so deeply shaken
That someday we may find a way
To stop children being taken
Far too soon for their final meeting.
Too many of us too often forget
That rage is ever so fleeting.
It’s depression and sorrow that last till tomorrow
If there’s no one there who’s heeding
The issues we all need to vet.
Here’s to the shy ones, the quiet ones
The ones who don’t make waves.
And to those of us who make a fuss,
Keep racking up those saves
By loving our daughters and sons.