Shot (A slam poem about guns) | Teen Ink

Shot (A slam poem about guns)

June 6, 2018
By Epril GOLD, Sellersville, Pennsylvania
Epril GOLD, Sellersville, Pennsylvania
16 articles 7 photos 0 comments

It's the newest edition of the American dream. Your parents come from across the ocean after winning a lottery for a green card and survive situations even they marvel at in their middle age. Now you sit on the couch wondering what those shots in the distance are and what kind of screams are those and in what way are people celebrating their American citizenship today. Shot. You're at a party and some drunk guy bought a semi automatic at Walmart earlier and in his drunken state he remembers the pony he never got when he was seven so he raises his arms holding a death ray but it's half as fantastic as a ray because it's matte and silver and real. Oh so real. Shot. I am not throwing away my shot. Everybody sing, no, everybody scream because this time you're not white and the officers having a bad day. Shot. Because the words written several hundred years ago regarding muskets, not assault weapons, apparently matter more than the lives of this nation. Because we must defend Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. LIFE, Especially for those shot dead by guns that should not have been there. Shot. LIBERTY, Especially for those killed for having an open carry in an open carry state because if you don't you're dead. Shot. PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS, Especially those who lost the ones who mattered most to them because someone was drunk or angry or sad or bored. Shot. Because as a teenager I watch the boiling of a second civil war because this country decided that no, they won't change their laws because it only worked for the rest of the world. Because in America bigger is better so we must have bigger gun shots, bigger death rates, bigger conflicts. Because it's better, right!? Shot. Because we treasure education so that we have to do weapon checks during school since it's so easy to get a gun in and we have to teach our kids to comply to even an unfair arrest because otherwise we'll die. Shot. Because school is no longer safe and we have to drill over and over again so it doesn’t happen again. Shot. Because we refuse to die so we’re looking for a safe space, because we refuse to stay silent about our fallen peers so we’re looking for a bruised face. Shot. Because we stay up at night, wondering if those shots were fireworks or not. Shot. Because the true American dream is a bullet in your brain and a hand on your heart.

Shot.


The author's comments:

America: The land where you need to figure out if that was a gunshot or fireworks


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