You’re going on about your business
doing ordinary things on an ordinary day
when, all of a sudden, bang, bang,
your existence is shattered by gunfire.
Bang, bang is the sound of rage
being unleashed among us;
Bang, bang is the sound of sorrow
being imposed upon us.
The world is full of broken people
who are outraged at their fates,
striking out at whomsoever is
immediately within their reach.
Bang, bang is the sound of anger
at the invisible establishment;
Bang, bang is the sound of the ego
screaming out that it’s been had.
Bang, bang is the scream of the abused child,
the molested adolescent, the social outcast,
the sexually discounted, the eager zealot,
all trying to even up the scores against them.
We are being savaged by an unjust status quo,
as the ancient tribal blood lusts surge back,
while the shooters are lashing out
at the imaginary adversaries among us,
Each and every shooter aiming at things
other than the targets in their sights,
seeking retaliations for the real abuses
and imagined insults they could no longer abide.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, there goes another
mother, father, son or daughter, sister, brother,
aunt or uncle, niece or nephew, friend or coworker,
teacher, student, neighbor, or perfect stranger.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, the tragedies proliferate
while reporters report and politicians pontificate,
as the body count keeps rising higher, bang, bang,
until, sooner or later, the death toll consumes us all.