Silence of the Lambs

All was clamor where they'd play,

but silence became of the lambs;

their air shot dead

wounded by the lion's eye.

A suffocating intrusion

heaving to endure the bind

while protectors scramble

to shield the innocence.

Too late were their reactions

and young lives fell negated.

Young lives taken,

boys for men

playing I hate you with bullets

rather than with the swing of a fist.

-Jg