Sonnet #213

Performers are not supposed to talk about the guns

That come in the night, those thousand tiny

injuries that mark the skin, just make fun

Dance for the camera, smile and be friendly

Pretend that everything is going to be all right

When the gunmen come in the dark to take

People who made the best choices out of bad, night

comes, good people lie awake in dread, wake

the artists up to help forget that they are afraid

In the same way, the keepers of guns want to forget

The twinge of guilt that hardens like a pearl laid

black in the back of their mind, where lie regrets

How dare anyone make anyone remember the gun song

all stories sing to the gun song, who holds the gun belongs

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