Tears By Jamie Rowen

I did not cry for Michigan.It seemed before my time.I did not cry for Jonesboro,too far away to mind. I did not cry for Palisadeseven though it may be mine. I did not cry for Conyers, Georgia. By then it all seemed fine.But I poured my heart right through my eyes The day they shot up Columbine.

The tears they fell for children lostAnd children on the line.My head fell quick into my hands for parents who must pine. My eyes stayed glossy to a screen Watching kids of my own climb.

But,What shook my body up the most,What made it hard to breathe,What bolted all my stomach down And wouldn't let me leave.What made me think about those boys And try to empathize Was the fright, the fear, the look of deathIn one scared victim's eyes.

She described a scene so horror-filled So wrapped with movie cut.I thought about these kids and film what put them in their ruts.I ruled out only media--we all watch similar thingsBut combined with loneliness and fearWho knows what games can bring?

One lesson to be learned from this,The only one for which I'm sure,Is that a gun manufacturer, movie title, music lyric, parent, anti-depressant, Internet trench-coat, insult, or whatever else, Is not the thing at fault. And no gun policy, censorship, parent in jail, drug ban, Web-site check, dress code, suspension, or whatever else, Would have removed their every thought.We must take looks inside ourselves, accepting looks with love. For what they didn't like in someone else, Is what they saw in themselves.