The Footsteps Of Death Poem by Bashir Goth

Tiny fingers, nimble minds
Tender flowers of the nation
Kids, kids, kids
Kids learning
Kids playing
Kids asking
Kids wondering
Kids not knowing
But also knowing
Hell was breaking
Death was coming
Childhood was losing
The world was changing
Right in their school
A gun man was moving
Senselessly shooting…

In Sandy Hook, Newtown
Right in their school
In the freezing winter
Kids were hiding
Holding their breaths
Holding their hands
Huddling together
Hearing the shooting
The cries, the moaning
The wails of their friends
The feeble whispers
The failing voices
The fearful silence
Of their teachers
The footsteps of death
Right in their school
Life was freezing
Christmas was fading
Memories fleeting
Gifts, gifts, gifts
Gifts for Christmas
O how excited they were
About gifts waiting
Never to be unwrapped
Never to be unwrapped
Never to be unwrapped