944. The Lake of Blood

We pretend to care about children

And think of them in a happy bubble of innocence

Where they play and fantasize without limits

We feed them healthy food

Regulate their media use

Nurture their dreams

And enforce bed time for their good

Seat belts are a must

Movie ratings too

Stranger danger is taught

Vaccines, vitamins, inoculations abound

Doctor check-ups annually, dentist too

And a value system of some sort is modeled

Fresh air, stimulation, sports and the arts are encouraged

And then there is formal education

Where parents trust their children to others who care for children too

Often, it’s a mother hen teacher and twenty chicks or students

In loco parentis, in place of the parent

In truth, kids cost a lot to raise

But their value is inestimable

We tell them at graduation to make the world a better place

The sky is your only limit

And yet, many children do not make it to graduation

Because they lie in little coffins

Near their devastated schools

Where a deranged person with a deranged weapon of war

Slaughtered them like so many rodents in a pen

Then the old familiar rants begin

With thoughts and prayers and mental health issues on one side

And broken-hearted communities on the other

Soon to be forgotten

In between them lies the deranged truth:

Guns and Paranoid Safety Self Interest

The NRA, profits, and misguided patriots

Silly congressmen and celebrities pose

With machines of death like GI Joes

Aren’t they cute?

Willful Ignorance prevails over the lives blown away

Silly talking points arise and delay

Any meaningful change to the carnage

The bubble of innocence and good intentions

Explodes with a deadly round or two

No hope of survival

But immediate excuses arise for the need of

“Good Guys with guns” who will prevail

Over “Bad Guys with guns”

Even a kindergartener can see through that

False logic and into the sixth Great Lake of our country

The Lake of Blood

Here we are again: guns and fragile fraidy cats

Triumph over the promising lives of innocent

Lambs slaughtered on the altar of Fear and Greed

The same pro-lifers who defend the unborn

Ignore the grown up fetuses

Blown up by high powered guns

As the Mountain of Irony rises, a coffin lid,

Ever higher, eclipsing the last rays of hope.