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Poetry from within


I’ve tried so hard to understand

The thoughts behind a killer’s hand

How a young boy filled with hate

Can murder, maim - not hesitate

To kill his classmates, teacher, friends

With no remorse for how it ends

And we, society, have no shame

By saying that we’re not to blame

The shops we use to buy our bread

Also sell the rifles - “lead”

Enough to fight a minor war

“But surely that’s what shops are for!”

Society says, “We’ll carry on”

Then sheds false tears for those who’ve gone

Don Holmes