Gun. Fire. Change.

Gun. Fire. Change.

The sounds of a little boy playing on a monkey bar set. His movements, his audible noises, his contact.

Gun. Fire. Change.

A mindless coward leaked his way into society where the sounds of the surrounding areas were simple and innocent. Where individuals around we’re happy, enjoying life.

Gun. Fire. Change.

Movements went from jovial to jagged and precise. Like a doctor mothers and fathers sliced their way through the crowds of haphazardness beckoning for their beloved replicas.

Gun. Fire. Change.

As the crowd vanished there was only pain and sorrow left behind. Parents of a young boy grasping upon him like they could keep his breath of life with them. It wasn’t due to their negligence, it was directly associated with the nothingness of a human being holding a handheld catapult colored with cold and hard materials.

Gun. Fire. Change.

Forever will those parents lives be haunted by such an empty void of flesh and bones. My prayers, love, and compassion I’ll send to thee.

Gun. Fire. Change.

The Boston Marathon bombing was such an act such as this. Superman is dead…

Dedicated to those who will forever live in more pain than they should feel.

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