A Poem About Guns

Let’s make a law that says you’re not supposed to kill. Instead of worrying about magazine capacities, and three day waiting contingencies, let’s just say, “No killing” Nip it in the bud. Then someone determined-and-crazy will read that law and say, “Oh okay guess, I'm not killing anyone today… because the law.”

Let’s compare “gun places” to “safe spaces”. Because if guns are the problem, then gun stores and shooting ranges, would be constantly on the front pages for their non-stop violent rampages. So many guns in close proximity, these body-count atrocities must be happening there constantly. Am I right?

But instead, it’s these so called “safe places” with no-guns-allowed that invite the crazies to shoot-up-a-crowd and somehow we haven’t figured out’ that maybe guns keep the assholes from coming around?

But the police, they’re supposed to protect us, right? Well our brave blue line' has a tendency to just wait outside. In two years, two tragedies-- it’s happened two times. Club Pulse in Orlando had a cop moonlighting at the door, He waited for backup and fifty people never got back up from the dance floor. The on-campus sheriff at Parkland' knew there was an armed man’ and He waited for backup and seventeen people never got back up again.

Because "no guns" means you’re at the mercy of the government. Lest we forget the orange tufted head at this country's helm. If you believe he’s compassionate and just, reasonable and worthy of our trust, then by all means give up the guns. But… if you think his regime is not as it seems, then the last thing you want to do is give up the peoples' means-- to fight back.