The Problem

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.
1

You might also like…

Poetry
Poetry

Intrusive Minds

Jeanna Cammarano

We are nine when I discover I am the evil twin. We've just blown out the candles on our birthday cake. Our dad sets down the kitchen knife and heads around the corner to help mom grab bowls and ...  [+]

Poetry

How Time Works

Haley Swanson

After my father toured what would become our neighborhood in Fairfax, California, he knocked on the nearest door and asked the man who answered if it was nice living there.

That man told me this ...  [+]