Pray for the day
When the gun-god turns
to salt
And melts away.
Grieve our helplessness
To change what we
believe in.
I
had a gun once
With
a silver bullet,
A
gold bullet,
A
diamond bullet.
I
loved my gun so much,
I
loved the bullets.
I
shot the silver bullet into a cloud
And
it rained.
I
shot the gold bullet into a dream
And
it landed on my pillow.
I
shot the diamond bullet at a star.
It
circled the earth
And
it came down
And
told me stories.
But I wanted more from my gun and bullets.
I
had one more bullet
That
was made of clay.
I
shot that bullet into the ocean.
It
didn't change a thing.
I
threw away my gun.
I
turned to the land of my home
And
I walked
Toward
the far horizon,
Grieving
and praying.
