A Letter to the NRA



The school bus sped away that day
as Grace blew kisses to her mom.
Excitement, swirling, had its sway
and with the bluest eyes, she sung.

She’s gone now, to another realm
where neither blood nor fear reside;
where purple crayons overwhelm;
where innocence will not be tried.

We may know love when, through her eyes
she paints her picture pink for peace.
Her choice will come as no surprise
to see a gun’s red raging cease.

Her home is now another place
where some may meet amazing Grace.

(Grace McDonnell, age 7, who died mid the Sandy Hook massacre…)

 

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Poets Pub

Rantings Of A Third Kind

The Blog about everything and nothing and it's all done in the best possible taste!

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