The Things I've Seen — a poem about mass shootings and the media

In the wake of last night's shooting in Las Vegas, the worst mass shooting in US history, I really haven't been able to think of much else. There are so many reasons to be disheartened and disillusioned with the state of affairs in this nation, but the astounding rise in terrorist attacks (there's a mass shooting almost every day in the US) probably tops the list. We have a massive problem here and I can't even begin to fathom what the solution could be.

Certainly there is a gun control component to this, but I believe a solution must go a lot further than that because the guns are already out there. You don't need to purchase one legally to be able to do this. There is something very wrong with a mind that would do this for any reason. I don't care if it's a personal grievance, religious beliefs, or what have you, it's all mental illness across the board if you can say, "Yeah, shooting someone sounds like a reasonable solution to my problem." But with a country full of broken minds, how can we possibly stop this from happening over and over again?

I don't propose an answer. If anyone has one, it's certainly not me. I'm just pondering and grieving the loss of so many things, along with all of you. I've written this poem from that place in my heart. It doesn't feel good enough but it will have to do.

If anyone out there is reading this and struggling to get your mind around what is happening in our world, know that you're not alone. Send me a message (comment below or reach me at @poeticonic on most social media) if you ever want to talk. We're all struggling through this together and no one should be alone in it. I hope this poem brings you some comfort.
 

The Things I've Seen

The moon is close to fullness as she dances among the clouds
and the night is as lovely as it always is and always was.
We hold hands and converse as if nothing has changed,
but we know that beneath the sidewalk runs a river of blood—
the satellite maps littered with slices and bullet holes.

Beneath the beauty, there has always been death,
but where it used to just be a timely passing,
it is now cruelty that underlies everything.
An ever-present, dinging, flashing hint
that we might not make it home tonight.

Somehow, we keep breathing.
Those left pick themselves up and keep living.
But you're lying if you say you're unchanged.
I'd be lying if I said I ever felt safe.

Do we accept that we're living in a war zone?
There are changes that can be made
but we can't bring bodies back to life
and we can't ever make things right.

The media creates a paranoia
that feeds already sick minds.
No one is immune to it.
I don't know how to integrate
what I see on the screen
with my daily reality.
I don't know how to heal
from the things I've seen.