Kids Corner

Poetry

Dinner With The Gunman

NINA CHANPREET KAUR

 

 

 

I invite you to my dinner table

Join me, will you?

I'd like to sit next to you.

I'd like to understand.

 

Put you on the operating table too

Pick at your brain

My sister a surgeon

I want to understand the wiring,

The thought, the impulse.

 

Time of death August 5th

What was your last thought before you fell into a pool of bleeding red?

And what did you eat that morning,

Your last meal or favorite food?

 

Sitting next to you at my dinner table

You hold me at gunpoint.

Let's eat

A feast always follows bloodshed.

 

Is it my turban

My beautiful shiny scarf

My long plaited hair

My smile?

 

A little boy wearing a gun

It was fun to play fight, kill spectacles in thin air.

A soldier, valiant and brave

You pick up a gun

PTSD

Russian roulette

I know you.

 

You wake up

look in the mirror to touch your skin.

I see you.

Hiding behind white

Fear

Power

Love.

 

Sweet Sunday morning

My call to prayer

When did you learn to betray me?

Congregation swells

Seekers, believers

Who taught you this?

Did you plant these seeds or did I?

 

I open my mouth

You pull the trigger again

Ripples explode

Splitting me in half

The victim is you.

 

 

* PTSD  -  Post-traumatic Stress Disorder

August 11, 2012

Conversation about this article

1: Baldev Singh (Bradford, United Kingdom), August 11, 2012, 7:34 AM.

This awesome poem pretty much sums up the endless cycle of lost humans just existing with nothing to do but take out their anger of their miserable and useless lives on something unrelated to what they're angry about!

2: Narinder Singh (England), August 11, 2012, 11:34 PM.

This is awesome. Really touched my heart.

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