Was it Really the Gun?

Was it really the gun that killed those people,

Or was it just a person that didn’t feel equal,

Was it really the pistol that caused all that drama,

Or was it just the pain from missing his mama,

Being in love going over the edge,

Not having the courage to just walk away from the ledge,

Pulling out the tool and shooting up half the school,

Running up and down the halls blasting like a fool,

Was it really the gun that made me do it,

Made me pop you in the head, 

Then watch your blood start flowing out like fluid,

What was the cause, and how did I get here,

Staring in my rearview with a face full of tears,

A mouth full of sorrow, and a heart full of regret,

Things I want to say, but don’t know quite how to yet,

Was it all the pain that I live with daily, slowly killing me, 

I can’t even love my babies,

Maybe it’s the stress that’s filling my mind,

Everyday is a struggle, I’m having a hard time surviving the grind,

Maybe it’s the lack of affection that I get from the world,

I don’t get any attention unless I shake up the world,

Well shaking things up sure is gonna be easy,

I got all these triggers and they screaming to me, “Squeeze me”

If I had to do it all hand to hand, 

It sure would be a lot tougher to slaughter my fellow man,

I’d have to look him the eye and listen to each cry,

Feel the loss of your breath with every blow to your chest,

This is getting kind of personal,

I am actually connected to the person who,

I’m projecting my pain into,

Instead of having the strength to get through,

All the questions that I asked in the beginning,

At the end of this game there is no winning,

I’m not free, and you’re blown away,

We both end up with so much more to say,

So maybe it was the gun, and maybe it wasn’t,

It really don’t matter, 

My misunderstood feelings got the whole world buzzing,

Finally I've been heard!

In the wake of so many seemingly random shootings our nation seems to be focusing on the tools used in the incidents as opposed to the feelings that led to the circumstances that we are too familiar with.

I own a gun and I hope I never use it; it sits atop my book shelf waiting but I hope it waits for eternity. Just as my gun sits and waits, so does the blood in my body waiting to boil to a point where I am ready to cause harm to others as well as myself. I spend many hours exploring my feelings so that I don’t get to a place where my blood does start to boil. 

I think as a group we should try to find out why we feel what we do, the answers are very close to us. When we find these answers we will be able to understand ourselves, and our fellow beings, a lot better; so much better that harming them, or us, will become an idea that is just not worth even considering, even in the most dire circumstances.

I hope that we will focus on the why instead of the how going forward. The why is what can change, the how will always be at our fingertips, just waiting for some inspiration.

I love you,

Brandon