#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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Mourning

She clasped her grandmother’s hand in hers,
stunned by the weakness and frailty
of the skinny fingers.
 
Machines beeped in the sanitary hospital room.
The words ‘Palliative Care’
Crisp on the walls.
 
A sob was wrenched from her mother’s throat
And she watched the first tear drop
Many would soon follow.
 
Wetness coated her own cheeks in silence
Unable to disrupt the mourning
Despite the life beside them.
 
That night her father came to get her from the dreary room
And her mother urged her to go and said,
“Grandma won’t pass if you’re here.”
 
She offered a weak smile, knowing her grandpa was there
In spirit for both her mom and grandma
And she walked away willingly.
 
In the middle of the night, she woke to heartbreak
And knew her grandma had left this world.
A happy soul now gone forever.
 
Cries echoed down the hallway when her mother returned
And she wiped away her own sorrows to put on her face.
A warrior’s mask to support her mom
And fight her demons with her.