Broken

                                                                           Broken
A trucker walks into a synagogue…

I
t sounds like the start of a joke, but it’s not.

Not a joke when this trucker is a crazed anti-Semitic
looking for somewhere to aim his misguided blame
Not when he perpetrates another of the countless massacres
that have become the wretched lore of America’s shame
Not a joke when any old trucker from Pennsylvania
can inexplicably have twenty-one guns registered in his name

It’s not the least bit funny when this same old story happens every other day.
It’s called the same old story, because the same old story is always the same.

It seems to happen
every other day
Lives change, in the blink of an eye
Lives changed, in the worst possible way
So many lives
The same old story
Every other day

Every other day
I can feel the devastation
Sickening me again, as a broken system cracks
Resonating again, as a broken person snaps
The devastation of every other day
The anger, the heartache, the vast impacts
The scourge of so many weapons, the same cold facts
So many lives,
changed in the worst way
Lost, in the devastation,
of every other day

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A young couple decides to start a family…

It sounds like a very nice story, until it’s not.

A young mother pulls on her favourite boots,
excited about
a long-awaited night out with her friends
Drinks and dancing, and all the best intentions,
missing her daughter more with every text she sends
Her husband sends her a photo of their peaceful sleeping baby,
never imagining, that tonight, his wife’s life abhorrently ends

Yet another lost name on the long, sad, deplorable list of every other day.
Three more victims of a system that breaks far more often than it bends.

It seems to happen
every other day
Lives change, in the blink of an eye
Lives changed, in the worst possible way
So many lives
The same sad story
Every other day

Every other day
I can feel the desolation
Weakening me again, as a broken system fails
Resonating again, as a broken child wails
The desolation of every other day
The anguish, the heartbreak, the immense scale
The weight of so many coffins, so many final nails
So many lives stolen
So many broken
So many changed
Changed, in the worst way
The same sad news
The same sad reality
The same desolation,
every other day
untitled

 

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Talker

20160213_144817[1]
Talker

Standing trial in plain sight
and dominating my news
Rubbing it in the face
of my moral views
A defense of discredit
with the dirt that it spews
Spitting out the seeds
that a narcissist chews

Smooth talker
talking your way
As much who you are
as what you say

Squeaky clean persona,
not what he seems
Taking his advantage
to filthy extremes

Guilty in the court of perception,
clear in the public eye
Allegation after allegation
and the numbers can’t lie
Powerless victims
to your privileged high
Objectifying and brutalizing,
then justifying why

Smooth talker
getting your way
As much who you are
as what you say

Taking your hold
from that lofty perch
The relentless entitlement
of your selfish search

I can’t begin to understand,
even know where to start
Unable to comprehend
as it tears at my heart
What allows a man to exploit
the capacity of his art
To take malleable lives
and rip them apart

Smooth talker
having your way
As much who you are
as what you say

Crumbling a fresh flower
just because you can
Holding her dignity
in the palm of your hand

 

 

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