#PicturePoetryPrompt: Gun Control

From North of the border,
I watch my American friends
suffer time and again.
A vicious cycle repeating.

Bullets fired from GUNS
are worth more than
LIVES
I hear again and again.

And yet there’s a growing chorus
Of voices.
Young
Old
Female
Male
Gay
Straight
Black
White.

They scream for CONTROL
United against a bigger threat.
They don’t want to hide
Afraid and alone
from angry people who take their rage
like tidal waves
and crash into innocents.

They want change.
Not to take all the GUNS away
But to restrict the types
Create stiffer rules.
What threat is this
to your freedoms,
My GUN owning friends?

They should be free
to feel SAFE
In a Grocery store
In a School
At a Concert
At a Hospital
At a Synagogue
At a Church

ANYWHERE.

But the NRA has friends
who view CONTROL
as an evil worse than plague
WHICH IT’S NOT.
When did your fellow Americans’ LIVES
come to mean so little?

I see this on my screens
In our papers.
As a Canadian,
I’m thankful for our GUN CONTROL.
I feel SAFE.
If only the change Americans need
would come on swift wings.
I wish you all could feel SAFE
On every day’s journeys.

You see,
I think no man, woman or child
should be afraid to leave their home
for fear of flying bullets
shot from vicious GUNS
hunting them down.

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A Lone Soul

A cold hand touches the soul
Draining warmth, comfort
And connectivity.
 
An absence of sound, laughter
Words fail, claimed
By empty air.
 
Phone buzzes on the table
Is it a friend, family?
No, a game alert.
 
Flipping through channels
Searching social media
For something.
 
A need to reach out to another
Yet unaware of its urgency
Until they walk in.
 
They fill the void
And like a moth to flame
Rush to them.
 
Or maybe the door
Never opens, always closed
And we hide
 
Behind curtained windows.

Time To Play!

I can’t believe how much I have done since 5 am! Cleaned my house from top to bottom (I will admit to tidying last night), and I shoveled my driveway and my neighbour’s. Now, I have time to play!

My sister asked me if she could come over and hang out for a little bit and I obviously agreed (part of why I felt the need to clean). She will be here around 11:30am(ish) after an interview for a new job. I’ll be playing hostess until about 2:30pm when I will take her to school and pick her up at 5:30pm.

As I have said in previous posts, I am not someone with a lot (or any) friends. I’d love that to change, but as it stands, my family and husband is all I got. Thus I love the fact my sister reached out to me. There has always been an invitation to message her and hang, but with her in university, I feel guilty stealing any of her time. She has friends and a boyfriend (who seems to be good for her), and those are who she spends her free time with when not studying or working weekends.

Since I spend 80% of my time alone, it will be nice to have some fun talk time! I will have to keep from starting arguments though. It’s my curse how easy I can start a fight and without ever meaning to. I’m hoping she’ll enjoy the time away from our parents’ place and the argument zone it can be from time to time.

This is probably the best part of being an older sibling. I get to provide a (kind of) safe place away from home. We all have gone through those times where we wanted nothing more than to run away from our parents. It doesn’t always have anything to do with them and their treatment of us; just a need for free space and independence.

Anyways I’m going to take a boiling hot shower, scrub myself clean, and relax until she gets here! Take care of yourselves!

 

Please

See me?
 
On the sidelines of your life?
On the bench, alone?
 
I guess you don’t.
I guess it is too little too late.
 
Don’t you see me?
How hard I’ve tried?
 
I reach out, but touch wall.
I reach out, but hear nothing.
 
Have you been locked in a cage?
Pushed from another’s life?
 
I don’t think so.
I don’t think you ever have.
 
Maybe if it had happened to you
You would see me
Screaming for the keys
And you’d open the door.
 
But you don’t, do you?
 
See me?
 
Please.

Tired

I am tired.

Tired of carrying the house’s chores.

My husband’s constant need for backrubs.

I am tired .

Tired of figuring out dinner night after night.

My dogs’ inane need to whine every morning.

I am tired.

Tired of feeling worthless, hung out to dry.

My siblings’ hateful gaze when I speak.

I am tired.

Tired of feeling alone, pulling myself up.

My inner mind’s dark, dark voice.

I am tired.

Tired of sleeping in, depressed.

My dream’s constant hold on me.

I am tired.

Tired of carrying everyone’s problems alongside my own.

My need to please all those around me.

I am tired.

Tired of throwing myself to the side.

My desire to put everyone else before me.

I am tired.

Why doesn’t anyone see that?

Why doesn’t anyone help?

Why doesn’t anyone lend a kind word?

 

 

My Heart, The Sacrifice

Take from me

My Heart,

For I dare not care for you.

This Love is but a void dream,

One I’m sick of seeing.

It tells the same

Old Tale.

Heart break.

Destruction.

Loneliness.

I will not entertain

Your Demons,

The ones you taunt me with.

I sit alone

In the darkness of time

And lust for life

Without your empty promises.

My Heart, I offer.

A sacrifice.

All in hopes of

Bidding thee farewell.

Leave me to myself

For I’d rather break alone.

Solitude

Quiet echoes off barren walls
Darkness fills the mind
And yet
In silent contemplation
Its emptiness is comforting.
 
Day after day
Week after Week
Locked in her room
She stays
Tempted to shed this second skin.
 
Instead
She holds herself tightly
The beating of her heart
Fills her conscious
And she falls in to the abyss
of her own making.
 
A key in the lock
A click
The door opens
Light shines through
And there…
 
The one person welcome
To shatter her world
And bring her into his.