Gun Worshippers Poem by John Sensele

A lone gunman totting seven military grade
Machine guns burst onto an entertainment joint
Opened fire, cut down unready lives that couldn't evade
His fatal intrusion and unbidden invasion with only a point
To steal lives that neither drew his attention
Nor provoked the yoke of his wrath unleashed with mindless venom
Bottled up for too long in a gun worshipping nation
Where loonies protected figments of the imagination from a phantom
That dwelt in fantasies that smelled death
Where death didn't exist and potential killers contended no one
Could deprive them of arsenals too needless in health
In intensity, in propensity and insensitivity won
Over defenseless victims too disposable, too dispensable
Because government, discernment and internment couldn't be responsible.