Do not dissociate from this dystopia,
It is not fiction anymore.
We turn our TV’s off,
When it’s time to serve the meal.
If there’s no news anchor reminding us,
Of the innocent lives being slaughtered
On the daily,
It’s no longer our concern.
We allow nothing,
To ruin our appetite.

Sit down at the table to eat,
Another headline breaks out.
Another attack,
Another disaster.

The only way we see it:
Italic font,
Reports from well-groomed men and women,
A singular photograph of the location.
Witnesses stating their accounts
Of the scene,
But we don’t have to live through

the results of the crime scene.

Families in distress,
Wailing, cries from small children,
No way to get them to stop.

Families in blood baths,
Drowning in pain,
Safety so far away.

Families torn apart,
Facing great loss,
No way to get them back together.

We are already desensitized,
Thoughts and prayers 

is all we can give. 
While they’re left in shreds.
While we’re thankful it wasn’t us,
And our loved ones.
Until one day,
The world gets smaller,
And it is.

This is no blockbuster,
Surely not on the best seller’s list,
Antagonists proudly own up to their actions,
While everyone else can’t figure out,
Or agree on,
How to retaliate,
How to reach out,
How to prevent it from
Ever happening again.

No one target to attack,
So we point our fingers,
All around.
A war spread so thin,
Yet the plot is only getting thicker.

Do not dissociate from this dystopia,
It is not fiction anymore.
Go ahead and crack the spine,
But the ending is yours to write.