Shoot Poem by Sam Byron

as her tears fall
his blood spills

a war
you don't know
a face
you don't see

her brother
his mother

point, aim, shoot

point, aim, shoot

how many more?
sacrifices,
bodies,
families,
tears,

how much more?
money,
time,
anger,
saddness.

as her tears fall
you sleep in a warm bed
as his blood spills
you eat a filling breakfast

scarred
physically
scarred
emotionally

a war you don't see
a face you don't know

when will it end?
what will it cost?

will
they
make
it
home?