Wednesday, December 17, 2014

The Bullet




While I sleep tonight, I think of the angels
Who left this earth towards heaven’s gate
What would they remember of yesterday?
The prayer at school? The food in the box?
The homework to do? The games to play?
The fond kiss and hug their mother gave?
Or their father’s pat and  good bye wave?
If they knew this world was such a place
Where terror spreads in a thousand ways
More than love and peace and harmony
And all that good their teachers taught
In those hundreds of stories and lessons
Hours every day, all untrue, all unreal
What would remain in their memories?
Maybe that one bullet that ended it all.

-R-