
A parents powerful poem about the high school shooting in Florida.
“17”
It was
17 mornings like any other
17 snoozes and then another
17 breakfasts on the go
17 “byes” promising “hello”
17 bodies in sleepy motion
17 minds embracing commotion

A parents powerful poem about the high school shooting in Florida.
It was
17 mornings like any other
17 snoozes and then another
17 breakfasts on the go
17 “byes” promising “hello”
17 bodies in sleepy motion
17 minds embracing commotion
I have written a post after every mass shooting, but now I am at the point that I don’t know what to say anymore. The hope I had, has been buried under a pile of dead bodies. While many of us wish for stricter gun laws, Congress will soon vote on a bill to ease the sale of silencers. I am lost for words and simply don’t understand it anymore.
This is not draining the swamp, this is being a puppet on a string for the lobbyists who are the puppetmaster. I am deeply concerned.

A 13-year-old boy from Virginia tried to buy lottery tickets and porn magazines in 2014, that was denied. He tried to buy alcohol and cigarettes, that too was denied because of his age.
Friends came over last night; we ate good, had a few drinks and talked a lot about everything that came to our mind. Sitting down with a group of friends, with different political opinions -yes, I do allow Republicans in our house- is always quiet entertaining.