March for Our Lives

People take to the streets.

Young people who have been failed 
by the generations in power.

Older people who are fed up with the people in

office who care more about themselves

then the people in the country, the ones 
who they're are supposed to be thinking about.

Children had to grow up too soon because

an act of violence shattered their innocence.

They've been forced to take action to try

to stop these situations that have become all

too common in America.

Lawmakers fear that if they speak up to change

the gun laws, they will lose their jobs.

How ironic,
thinking about themselves have made 
their fears come true.

Playing it safe in politics has led them
to the place they tried to avoid like the plague. 

There's a new generation who will be

voting for the first time this November.

They're angry for being abandoned by those 
who are supposed to be working for them.

A generation who aren't willing to

put up with bs.

They have learned the tragedies
of life too soon.

They have to practice shooting drills 
and  be aware of the fears of what
going to school and learning could be.

They can't fully focus on what is 
being taught because of events such

as these are too common and nothing 
is being done to prevent them.

So it keeps on happening.

As people take to the streets across 
the country and around the globe,

there is hope that change can happen.

Students can learn without fear.

Lawmakers will hear the outcries,

chants, and messages

from volumes of people 
and put in place laws to make these

tragic situations less likely to occur

in the future.

And if they don't, 
then the people marching

and many more will

vote them out this November. 

Window

The snow that fell the night before,

is half melted when I look out the window.

Everything is either dead or hibernating.

A colorless earth is only pretty for so long.

Flower buds on the trees about to bloom.

The grass is coming back to life.

Welcoming the green to bring

colors into life, everything is right.

The tree out the window is orange.

Magic floats through the air,

as the earth becomes so colorful,

before saying goodnight.

The heat is overwhelmingly hot.

Stepping out feels like stepping

into a hot kitchen or inside a stove.

Patience is slim as the number rises.

Suddenly, I was in France.

I walk through doors,
away from my stressed sister and her friend,
and I find myself on a beach in southern France.

I don't know how I made it here,
the shifting of time and space in a dream, perhaps.

This isn't real,
though I feel the hot summer sun beaming
down on my skin as I gaze around at those in front of me.

People speaking in languages I don't understand,
laughing and gossiping with drinks in their hands.

I go to speak to a nice looking couple,
but they turn away as soon as I say hello,
waving their hands as if I should already know.

Know what? I don't know.

An Answer to a Question Never Asked

Meaning is a flower 

bathing in sunlight. 

Colors exploding from

the summer heat, 

popping bright to

whoever walks by. 

Meaning is madness 

no one can control. 

No one understands 

chaos besides the fact 

that it's something 

you cannot grasp, 

it flings away from 

your hand at every 

chance. Meaning is a 

baby's first cry and a 

body's last breath.

The soul's departure 

to whatever's next. 

Meaning is a sunrise 

and sunset. The universe 

attempting art with 

each passing day. 

Meaning is beauty

that doesn't have 

to be explained. 

It moves from up 

to down below. 

Meaning is what only 

exists in thought. 

Dreams hold meaning

we will never know. 

Meaning is living a life 

you'd wish to tell. 

Meaning is a story 

already told.