Chelsea fc

Sunday 25 February 2018

Paint the World Orange


“My beautiful baby boy”
She sobbed, tracing the words on the gravestone
Her eyes swollen, dipped in crimson
The tears no longer fell like waterfalls
They were lost in the muddy earth
Where they belonged -
Where her world did not.

“Forever I love you,
Forever I care,
Whenever you need me,
I promise I’m there”

But she wasn’t there,
Not when the three bullets shattered her baby’s skull,
Not when the ear-splitting shots rang out around the campus grounds,
Not when her son’s body lay crumpled on the floor.
She wasn’t there when that metallic monster robbed her of her happiness.

“The bullets went straight through” they said
“His death was painless – instantaneous”
But there’s nothing painless about daggers in the heart
Or the paralyzing fear the mayhem ensued,

Moments before his final breath.
What were his last thoughts?
Maybe of his swing;
Of those hot summer days
When she’d push him and he’d laugh,
Swearing he could touch the sky.
They’d drink sweet, cold peach tea
And count the stars from the porch until he fell asleep

She’d carry him to his bed and tuck him in
Whispering those words as he stirred; their promise.
How perfect were days passed, days spent just like this
Moments never forgotten, now only hers to cherish

Five winters now gone, the hardest time of year
Chills run down her spine as shell casings shower the roof sheets.
Short winter days to mirror her grief
As empty, longing eyes survey that beloved old swing.

“Whenever you need me,
I promise I’m there”

But she wasn’t there,
Not when that bloodthirsty intruder pulled his trigger,
Not when the bullets flew from their death barrel,
Not when the walls were splattered red, her son’s life on a fresh canvas,
She wasn’t there as his final masterpiece was scrubbed clean.

3 bullets, 1 target, 2 victims died that day,
It was a safe space - for learning
But for a hunter, psychotic they claim.
He carried death in his arms;
Gleaming in destruction, lustful for life.

The system failed her baby,
Godforsaken pistols, valued more than her son’s life
She’d paint the whole world orange for one more chance;
One more summer’s day,
To see her sun touch the sky.



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