TRAGIC Poem: Bullets, by N.T. Chambers

don’t care
where they
hit –
skin blisters
bones break
organs explode
blood spurts
lives shatter
in the same
fashionable way
for everyone –
be they young,
old, innocent
or passersby
who receive
the gift
of unexpected
high velocity
searing lead
delivered by
mean intent
without any
warning or
reason given
just a guarantee –
thirty seconds
of fame
on the evening news
with thoughtful
prayers offered
while America
reloads.

Author: poetryfest

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