isn't it tragic
that the hoodies of our youths
are stained red
and drenched in salt water
isn't it tragic
that the air
is not fresh
but metallic
isn't it terrible
that we hurt those for who they love
and forget to blame those
who forget to ask
isn't it horrible
that we are forced to walk on a tightrope
while the winds are strong
isn't it sad
that the people supposed to love us
are holding the guns
isn't it awful
that we wake up
and see hell on our ceilings
so we drift back to sleep
isn't it pitiful
that we have phones in our pockets
and no one to call
isn't it pathetic
that people are fading to black
while we just look on
isn't it wretched
that we taunt
and tease
so people are afraid to scream
isn't it dreadful
that we silence those
with the prettiest voices
isn't it unfortunate
that the sun will stop shining
tomorrow won't come
our people will die
and we will forget to throw
sand on their graves