Written By: Jenna Sun, 15, Connecticut
A poem
Part 1- When time stood still
Int. classroom
blam.
Babies taken away in a flash of smoke
Crimson red slicking the floor
Written farewells
Feigned stillness
Real stillness
Piercing cries and silent tears
Fearful children shielded by teachers, trying not to eye the barrel of the gun
Grubby hands clutching each other
Broken glass
Broken dreams
Broken lives
Broken families
Ext. streets of America Dark nights chilling to the bone Broad daylight Drive by shootings Daily tragedies that don’t land the headlines.
Int. the time of our lives
The bass thumps throughout the building
Bodies swaying and joyous chatter
Shots splashing aimlessly onto the dance floor
Hushed pants into the phone
Stained dresses and kicked off heels
Ext. places of worship
Our elders going without peace
Brittle bones unable to run
Bones shattered for their beliefs
Whispered prayers
Part 2- The Storm
Sirens wail in the distance
Bulked up figures donned head to toe in tactical gear circle the building Hungry news reporters step off of sleek cars and vans,
Dressed immaculately with their heels clicking on the ground
A prepped medical team stands by,
Waiting for a call to go in from the officers that never comes
Hands over their heads, people run out.
Close your eyes
Don’t look down
Run, run, run, they’re told.
Always run, run, run.
Part 3- The Agony
Families await painful news in nearby fire departments, police stations, or hospitals.
Some parents hug their kids and don’t let go.
Some just watch.
Watch as their children fade from beating hearts to cold statistics.
Soon comes the incomprehensible insensitivity.
Finale- The Revolution
Time and again we fail our children.
We don’t ensure their high school graduation
Their admission to college
The first day of their new job.
They won’t ever see the day they marry or start a family.
We fail to nurture our children by denying them again and again.
Yet it’s these children that are taking the initiative
Charging their pain into action.
We are no strangers to these shadows
To the illuminated tight knit town bogged down by tragedy
A nation in shock
A nation in grief
A nation in anger
We ask you not to forget,
We ask you not to forgive.
We demand it.
Yet we forget.
The clock ticks on.
We move on.
And history repeats itself.
The cycle begins again,
It will never end.
This is America.
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