If It Bleeds, It Leads

If It Bleeds, It Leads

I was 11 when my capital city crashed down.
At 15, the maniacs stormed Rocky Mountain halls.
9 days later. It was my hometown.
A pipe in the bathroom.
For a day off. For a day off!?

I was 18 when the towers burned.
The angels flew and our stomachs turned.
23 at my University. He blew up on a bench.

Every year since there’s been at least three,
Psychos out on their idiot sprees,
Ruining life’s peaceful sanctity.
The classroom halls. The shopping malls.
The movie premieres. We’re all living in fear.

Talk to each other.
Love one another.
Stop this senseless death, my brothers.
I don’t know the cause.
I don’t know the blame.
But damn, society, aren’t you ashamed?

Diagnosing our generational PTSD.
Billions of good people like you and me.
We want the same things.
Black, white, red, yellow, and brown.
We all just long to live free.

Free from the fear and perpetual wars.
Free from those in search of infamy.
Too many innocent lives walking towards
Heaven’s gate so prematurely.

D.L. Lang
D.L. Lang
D.L. Lang of Vallejo, CA is the author of nine poetry collections, including 2016's Poet Loiterer which Kirkus Reviews described as containing "Free-spirited ideals couched in fairly infectious rhymes." She enjoys performing her poems at open mics and entering them in county fairs.