I have the right words to say, but the lump in my throat won’t allow them out. These puffs of air that attempt to pass over my vocal cords do so without a peep.
I have the right words to say, but they’ve all been shared before. As if they are reserved only for the times when madness takes its toll.
But not shocked
Witness to despair
Slowly coming to grips
A nation that has lost itself
Reliving senseless hatred again.
We have the right words to say, but thoughts and prayers are not enough. Words won’t heal the destruction done by a damaged mind sowing seeds of their madness with a gun.
We have the right words, but maybe it’s time to listen instead?