Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Fourteenth Day Of December

Shots fired,
and of course it's the children - the innocent,
who end up catching the bullets.
1,000 miles doesn't seem like enough
distance to make her happy.
stop counting.
stop keeping score.
stop shooting back.
there are no answers here,
nothing to win,
only more obstacles, more moments,
to be negotiated and lived.

1 comment:

  1. I'm reading, admiring the writing ... and hurting on your behalf. Not that that's worth anything I do realise, but that's what good writing does.


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