Each day I am with you
More precious than gold
The clock keeps on ticking
We were young, now we’re old.

The wisdom we’ve garnered
We intended to share
To impart on our children
With love and with care.

We sit in the garden
Look out at the trees
Remember our childhood
All the scrapes on our knees.

It all happens so fast
You look back and remember
Playing outside
Coming home to eat dinner.

Taking our lunch
In a brown paper bag
Playing “hide and go seek”
All the fun that we had.

But, what’s happened, what changed?
Where did it go wrong?
What caused the aggression?
The innocence is gone.

Kids now in a rage
Killing and mamiming
Hurting each other
The pain and the blaming.

It was once all so simple
Kickball and jumprope
No threats, no fear
We chewed gum, we passed notes.

The school once a place
To learn and have fun
Now we are fearful
Of the kid with a gun.

That one empty soul
So angry, so sad
Wants to cause pain
He has simply gone mad.

No way to imagine
No way to prepare
For the way you would feel
So frightened and scared.

Video games
Intended for fun
Now just a lesson
On killing someone.

Bring back the days
Of innocence and joy
A time you weren’t scared
Of a damaged young boy.

What is the answer?
More guns to fight back?
More bloodshed, more anger
To fuel the attack?

Where does it stop?
How long will it take?
To correct the problem
To fix this mistake?


Image from Google Images: local12.com

Author: Patty Richardson

Writer: Film scripts, poetry, short stories.

3 thoughts on “A MOM’S CRY FOR HELP”

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