Once again, we are faced with battle lines being drawn; we
can all see there’s something happening here.
We can’t avoid the man with the gun over there, telling me I got to
beware.
For it is now a grotesquely common cultural oddity unique to the United
States; more American than apple pie, baseball and even mom.
Those affected are revisited by grief with each subsequent mass shooting; reminded
time and again, that they’re among the statistics that
have become the line drawn in the sand. With
each mass shooting, new faces stream across the media, joining the previous;
bonded with a common thread that should never have been spun. Shouting, crying, asking; “why” and repeating
over and over; I think it’s time we stop!
And oh how they wish, after every mass shooting, they could take them into
their arms, warning them; children what’s that sound?
But they can’t. They
scream “I think it’s time we stop; everybody look - what’s going down? Our children are gone; our lives are devastated.
But the killers of children, parents, lovers and siblings refuse
to admit culpability in the paranoia that is theirs:
“the gun grabbers are
after my precious. They’re there I know
they are; clandestinely and insidiously scheming to take from my cold, dead
hands my precious. We must defend precious at all costs, even life, for that is
but collateral damage, expendable; they can all die in martyrdom for my
precious. As long as that life is someone
else’s; preferably the women and children we use as human shields. After all, we wouldn’t want to die in vain without
the drama of their blood flowing into the streets; what good is a bloodless show,
a show of someone’s death protecting my precious?”
There’s battle lines being drawn alright, and those battle
lines are; the streets of freedom, safety and liberty?
The bearers of precious are here to guard our freedoms and
will gladly gun down any who disagree with them. Nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong, so we’ll
simply shoot in the name of freedom. Oh what
lovely freedom! In the US of A; where we
can roam the streets without fear of becoming another statistic! Not a group of deranged, paranoid killers in sight
thanks to those with their precious.
The parents and the lovers of those gone know all too well that
paranoia strikes deep; into your life it will creep, without a moment’s
notice. But, we can let freedom ring,
for we have given our young people speaking their minds; given the cause our
hopes, our loved ones in the name of the second. Wondrous freedom; such comfort to know we are
safe to roam our safe streets.
What a field day for the heat. A thousand people in the street, singing
songs and carrying signs; mostly saying hurray for our side. They lost their loved ones, but it’s worth it
in the name of the second. As long as it’s someone else’s loved ones.
You’ve taken it all out of context you say? “This is not about guns or the freedom to
carry assault weapons to buy hamburgers; this is about outrage against the man. And so are we.”
Well I MAY have taken the lyrics out of context, but you
have MOST CERTAINLY taken out of context, the second amendment.
You have infringed upon my freedom to walk my streets without
the fear of being gunned down by the lunatics with access to just about any
firearm manufactured; the liberty to own your precious does not trump my freedom
to live without fear.
Your precious is not worth one more life; not one more
grieving parent whose life has been dubbed collateral damage for a “right” that
you grossly misinterpret so you can find your balls while hiding behind dead
women and children.”
And these are mass SHOOTINGS! So your argument "why not control knives, or baseball bats, or steel-toed shoes, or as in one Mother Jones video; bathtubs" or any of your other lame arguments that are absurdly juvenile and utterly nonsensical. The problem is a lack of control on firearms. How many people have died in mass knifings?
Paranoia strikes deep
No comments:
Post a Comment