Political Poem: Gun Song, by Cynthia Herron

What good comes
from a brave man’s home,
if his children are not safe
when on their own.
This does not feel like
land of the free,
this feels like blood
on the ballot to me.

You do not deserve to die violently,
by a stranger with a rifle
who stifled trauma history.
This does not feel like
land of the free,
this feels like life
on the ballot to me.

You do not deserve to die by gun
when you leave your house
for a grocery store run.
This does not feel like
land of the free.
this feels like fear
on the ballot to me.

You do not deserve to die by gun
when you go bowling
with your son.
This does not feel like
land of the free.
this feels like war
on the ballot to me.

You do not deserve to die by gun
when reading a book
at the library alone.
This does not feel like
land of the free.
this feels like loss
on the ballot to me.

You do not deserve to die by gun
when teaching children
in the morning sun.
This does not feel like
land of the free,
this feels like
forgotten humanity.

You do not deserve to die by gun
while practicing your choice
of religion.
This does not feel like
my vote is free.
This feels like my life
on the ballot to me.

You do not deserve to die by gun when you work.
You do not deserve to die by gun when you eat.
You do not deserve to die by gun when you sleep.
You do not deserve to die by gun.
You do not deserve to die by gun.
You do not deserve a gun.