What would the old white men and such make
of a second promise that became twisted about
with oceans of blood pooled in its wake?
How can it be, other than a 27 word cancer,
snuffing out love and beauty and life,
with nothing in return but empty answers.
And we are not weak to wonder and wish
that we had the strength to stand and proclaim
that 20 little precious bodies did not deserve this.
Maybe we deserve the darkness and no more,
if we lack the wisdom and courage to see
we needn’t be strangled by old words written before.
When all it touches does nothing but shatter,
when your families, faith, and freedom crumble,
words on a parchment page don’t really matter.
One thought on “On A 27 Word Cancer”
Send THAT to Congress.
Sent from my iPad