That small pebble of protest and its ripple affect
Can cause a tsunami of change if their dismissal you can effectively reject.
You have put them in a quandary,
Necessitating that they respond,
Before spreading more lies throughout their country,
Which careers have been built upon.
Let them think that you are too young and cannot understand,
But, stay true to your course and stick to your game plan;
Don’t allow them to shut you out,
The future is rightfully yours,
With your voices you can loudly shout,
Breaking through all of their doors.
Arming your teachers just adds to the crime
Of dismissing your concerns – they do it all the time.
But, this, by now you surely know – the adults are divided;
By sticking together in unity, you can get this issue decided.
You try to control their guns while they try controlling your minds;
The persistence and passion you share, they never expected to find;
You owe it to yourselves; you owe it to each other;
To help ensure the future in front of you,
Is something everyone can discover.
We have all been on this ride before;
Seventeen new toe tags in the County Morgue;
I get escorted out of the room when I recite the score,
They say, “Don’t get your snowflake ass hit by the slamming door.”
How many more candles must our nation light,
Before taking on this murder-enabling amendment fight?
Loving guns more than children is not a God-given right,
But as long as donated campaign checks are cashed, lawmakers sit tight.
Now the children themselves are raising their voices;
They don’t have the answers but they want to discuss our choices;
Until something is done, half-mast the flags stay hoisted;
It’s hard to tell whose eyes have become the moistest.
You’re afraid we’re coming to take your guns,
But you don’t seem to care they’ve taken our daughters and sons;
How many more funerals must we attend before enough damage is done?
I’m willing to argue all my life to stop the next one.
We have all been on this ride before;
I want to stop and get off; I don’t want to ride no more;
Our country is acting like an NRA whore,
It’s not against school children we should be waging a war.
Thoughts and prayers can only go so far;
It’s not hard to tell who the real losers are;
They’re the ones in the morgues with their toes wearing tags;
It should be the guns themselves in the body bags.
I love you every day of the year
With everything I’ve got;
To love you more on Valentine’s Day
Is something I simply just cannot.
Regardless of what the calendar says,
Or Hallmark Cards might suggest I do;
There is no way that on that day
I can possibly have any more love for you.
So, I’ll save you from the chocolates
Wait until we can grow flowers of our own;
On this made up winter holiday,
I simply write for you this poem.
I know you know I love you,
If not, what more can I say?
I can do nothing more to make you sure,
I love you all I can on every day.
There’s nothing special about February 14th
Other than it’s one more day I can share my love;
With the woman who I am certain,
Was sent down here for me from the angels up high above.
I never could hear my father’s voice
Rise above the crowd;
His cheering and encouragements
Never came from him that loud.
But, after the competition had ended
And, Dad was there to take me home,
He would simply say, “Atta Boy”,
To let me know he was proud of what I’d done.
“Atta Boy” was his phrase of choice
To indicate he approved of the accomplished deed
From, “Atta Boy” grew trees of confidence,
Dad planted with this simple seed.
To get an “Atta Boy” I’d practice hard
Trying to get a little bit better every day;
The sores and pains I paid for gain
At the sound of his “Atta Boy” would fade away.
I will never hear another “Atta Boy”
Echo from my father’s lips;
But, to my sons at the game’s end
Out of my mouth, “Atta Boy”, now slips.