Bullet Beats and Rhythmic Death
Like tumbleweeds toss about
in the dusty winds of time,
we tiptoe over the quicksand
of festering fear clouding our path.
Terrorism is no longer to be feared
from afar. Rather, it knocks at our doors
daily; smashing through without warning,
despite laborious pre-planned cautions.
Where students once looked forward
to exciting computer coding classes,
they now spend countless class hours
mastering color-code survival drills.
Today, home on the range in the land
of hope, has become a daily old wild west
maze encounter with icy bullets fired
from raping guns seeking innocent warm flesh.
Where it was once about the beat
in letting freedom ring throughout the land,
we now find ourselves trying to beat the bullets
popping from death’s rhythmic band.