Canceled

A poem about the cost of gun culture in America.

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

Yes, you’re canceled
because you chose to be
a killer.

You didn’t pull the trigger,
but you bought the gun
and left it on the dining room table
for your son to find.

And then you found him,
his brains a placemat
and the bullet an orderly
napkin folded nicely
beside his body.

How could this happen,
you say on social media,
hoping for likes
and asking for prayers.

You should have listened
to the doctor, when he said
that your son was depressed.

But that’s just another
conspiracy.