Poems from Hyraemous

Innocence

Damned is the man, the woman, the person who lives,

damned are they who bear the burden of life,

when their peers are no longer with them,

downed not by their own choice.

When they stand here without the innocence of bliss,

their thoughts inextricably stuck alive,

Reliving all those times when they tried

to survive the firefight.

Who will now be stuck, always remembered in life

as the ones who survived the tragedy

that was forced upon them by people

who never learned to live.

Who will now be forced to bear the trauma of strife,

that took away innocence randomly,

being forced to remember memory holes

as they move in life's hive.

Thrown a million promises by the people

who should've stopped this unspeakable thing,

Thrown everything of thoughts and prayers

by people far away,

When now was the time for action, they just throw holes,

without a spine these people start to sing,

not knowing any better, rather

stand like it was a play.

Parents forced to mourn keep their rooms a time capsule,

stuck in time waiting for their occupant

to come back home like every weekday,

never knowing the truth.

Grandparents mourning that they outlived, wearing suits

for the inevitable funeral, wept

with every relative in the rain

as God wept with His suit.

As the rest of us stand here a witness to pain,

what should we do to wash ourselves of sin?

When we all have the power to act,

when is "never enough?"

Every person who reads this, and myself, have stains

to wash, to make ourselves whole, for our kin,

by fighting to make sure that this lack

of safety runs a-puff.

So that every person can live again in peace,

so that every person can throw off fear

that they'll be next to have been outlived

by their parents and folk.

Now is the time, damn those who are in the way, heed

our calls for reform and our vast tears

in calling for every right to live

without the pain that holds.