When I heard about the atrocity that took place in Orlando, in which an armed domestic terrorist took the lives of innocent club goers, I knew that I had to write about it. I thought about writing an article about prejudice, religious rights, LGBTQA+ rights, gun control, or the event itself. I have a lot to say about those and am confident about my opinions, but it would not feel right. It would not do any good repeating facts that everyone already knows or sharing an argumentative opinion. This attack was just one of many terrible things covered by recent news. It is not uncommon to wake up in the morning and hear that a terrible, culture-altering atrocity took place while you were asleep.
Whether we talk about Orlando, Paris, London, or the almost daily attacks that happen in many Middle Eastern countries, much of the dialogue is the same. There are different underlying issues with different occurrences, but when broken down, similar conversations are repeated. I did not write a news article, because the mass shooting in Orlando, and ones like it, have already been covered with facts and politics. I wanted to cover it with the emotions that result from not only processing a horrifying incident, but from processing one's changing culture. This poem is not only for Orlando, but also the rest of the world.
"June 13, 2016"*
Beautiful things in life.
The sky.
The clouds that float around
In a kaleidoscope of shapes.
The smell of sun on skin.
Bare feet on cool sand
And splashing of colored waves.
Warm hands.
The company of friends.
Long walks through tall grass
And footsteps on summer pavements.
Painted stars on canvas
Melting into eyes.
And music dancing through ears.
The world is naturally beautiful,
But it gets harder every day.
It gets harder and harder
To see all the beauty this world has.
It is covered
By a dark, starless cloak.
It is thick and moonless.
It is wide enough to cover
The opaled moonflowers
That shine and grow in the dark.
It is hate,
Powered by apathy,
Strengthened by the words that fly
Like neon birds from the mouth
Of those who cower behind these drapes.
It is the twisted time traveler
Who haunts and ghosts around
To stop time and to keep the world
From moving Into a bright future.
It is cowardice that tries
To usurp love
By killing all that is beautiful.
It wants us to hate.
It wants us to all
Give up
Hope,
Dreams,
Holding hands and standing tall.
It wants us to stop believing
In love.
When we give in,
We can't open out hearts
To strangers,
Nor hold out our hands
To help a friend.
We can't hold our loved ones
In our arms
Nor kiss the ones
We love the most.
We can't even place our hands
Over our hearts and feel
Our lonely pulse
As it beats against silence.
We can't hear our own footsteps
As they step over rain-spotted sidewalks.
But we won't stop.
We will keep standing
With our hands clasped together
Like locks
And our hearts and minds
Directed towards the future.
We will keep standing for love
Until it is clear as air
That we are a world
Built from a rainbow of
Different minds and faces.
We are one world
That can only be torn apart by hate
And can only be healed
Through love.
*The mass shooting in Orlando took place on June 12, 2016. This poem is about processing it the day afterwards.
