The Problem


ago
1 min
11
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1
Qualified
Image of Fall 2020
Image of Poetry
I wanted to be good,
a good citizen that is,
but I was also very angry
and I couldn’t live like this.
I was mocked and beat and bullied,
and left empty inside
because I was just “different”.
There was nowhere I could hide.
My anger grew still stronger
I wanted them to pay,
to feel the fear I fled from
every waking day.
And so I had decided
and got my things prepared.
Then when the time was right I
crept out, no longer scared.
I found the one I wanted
an object of my hate
a person worse than Satan
it was time to compensate.
I pulled a gun out of my bag
and put it to his head;
I was going to kill those trembling lips
those eyes would soon be dead.
But then I paused to contemplate
my duty as a man
not just a man for, I am here,
I am American.
Gun violence, I had read,
is a big problem for us now.
and if we do not stop it,
it will end us all...somehow.
I wanted to be good.
I put the gun down from his head.
I could not add to gun violence.
I strangled him instead.
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