Safety

In a world awash with weapons, the fearsome parade,
Armed to the teeth, our society's charade.
With a Glock 17 in hand, some say they're safe,
But in this arsenal, we tread on perilous waif.

The Smith & Wesson M&P Shield gleams in the night,
A shield for some, a menace for others' plight.
The Colt M1911, a relic of the past,
In our modern world, a shadow it casts.

The Remington 870, a shotgun's embrace,
Power in every shell, in the wrong hands, a disgrace.
The AK-47, a symbol of strife,
In conflict and turmoil, it takes innocent life.

The Ruger 10/22, a quiet little gun,
But when it's misused, our peace comes undone.
The Beretta 92, a sleek and deadly piece,
Its beauty belies the horrors it can release.

The Winchester Model 70, a hunter's delight,
But in the hands of the wicked, it leads to endless night.
SIG Sauer P226, a lawman's choice,
Yet even they, in darkness, can silence their voice.

The Mossberg 500, a protector for some,
But in the wrong context, it becomes a fearsome drum.
Weapons for us or against us, who can decide?
In the wrong hands, even peace can't reside.

When I carry mine, somebody's fate sealed,
In a world of violence, where the heart is steeled.
Schools, parties, the beach, the plaza, our homes,
Nowhere is safe, and our world endlessly roams.

Safety measures in place, yet still, we're unsure,
No one is free, of that we can be sure.
Let's blame it on democracy, or so we insist,
But is it the system, or the hearts we enlist?

The reason weak people seem strong, we decry,
In a world where power sometimes relies on a lie.
Armed to the teeth, we stand at the crossroads,
Hoping for a future where the sword finally erodes.

But until that day comes, we must find a way,
To make our world better, to keep the darkness at bay.
For the weapons we carry, or those we condemn,
Are but tools of our choices, in the end.

Not Crowded in the Least  
   
*    
   
On being born stark naked and exposed  
sans fur, sans fangs, sans paws with claws, sans cell,    
I spent my childhood somewhat discomposed  
each sec I heard each bell each death toll knell;  
in day care, thus, I learned to fire a Glock,  
in night-time care shoot M16A2s,  
grades 1 through 6 pump-action shotguns cock,  
and study hall atomic bombs defuse;  
although by twelve from stress I looked like shit  
besieged by fickle Fate and Father Time,  
umpteen True Loves who failed to full commit,  
and Glory's brush-off of my feat in rhyme;  
yet safe am I at last since growing old --  
risk free inside this tomb one old black mold . . .  
   
*

He drove his Ferrari to his multi-million dollars home
Up on the highest hill
Pressed the code to open the garage door
Out of the car
Pressed the code to give access to the elevator
Accessed the second floor
Pressed the code to open the glass doors
Giving access to the long corridor at the end of which
He pressed the code giving access to the spacious living-room
On a CCTV screen, saw movement outside.
Shadows lurking by.  Not to his liking
Pressed the code to his safe room, much alike a bank vault
Also pressed the emergency button

Finally safe inside
But then his heart decided it was time for it to stop

All codes useless.