A Sunrise In The Crosshairs
by Gustave Deresse
Sunrays burst over the ruins on
the horizon,
the first light as witnessed
through
newborn eyes,
opened for their first time
during the night, now swiftly to be
their
last—
Fire!!
It— was never meant
to
be.
The original poem sought to save the child’s life and call for hope, as due to a blinding sunrise, the shooter misses, and unable to tell for sure, they simply move on to their next target— because THAT’s as bright as this shit’s bound to get.
As much as I wanted to sugarcoat it, there’s nothing remotely sweet about this situation.
Which situation, specifically?
That’s quite a fair question.