He set out to kill:
man, woman, and child,
and a babe in its mother’s arm.
He donned a vest.
Picked up his guns.
And set out to do them harm.
He shot at cops.
He fought for their guns.
But when he didn’t win,
he threw up his hands
and quit the fight
so there ‘d be no harm to him.
An Autumn chill is in the air.
The nights are turning colder.
This Fall will slip to Wintertime
before we’re all much older!
Tonight I send a lullaby.
Its notes are sweet and low.
It ripples like a gentle brook
where only sweet dreams flow.
Night spreads her gentle presence.
Darkness marks the end of day.
Gentle slumber overtakes us.
Dreams rock the night away.
The golden rays of sunlight
lay in stripes across my lawn.
The fading strips of beauty
tell me summer’s almost gone.
Now the killing’s in Winston-Salem.
Kids kill to settle a fight.
There’s no need for discussion.
The bullet decides who’s right.
The skies are dark and dripping,
but I surely can’t complain.
After weeks and weeks of sunshine
we can use a bit of rain.
Twenty years in Afghanistan.
The last plane flew away.
Twenty years in Afghanistan.
A sad and somber day.
Twenty years in Afghanistan.
The country’s not at peace.
Twenty years in Afghanistan.
The killing doesn’t cease.
It’s a sad and sober world today.
There’s not much cause for laughter.
It’s hard to read the news
and think of “happy ever after.”
Yesterday, two thousand died.
Overall: six-thirty-five K.
The anti-vaxxers give a shrug
and look the other way.
