News6 mins ago
The Dunblane Massacre - 25Th Anniversary Sat 13 Mar 2021
4 Answers
I wrote the following poem a few months after the incident.
'This Is Not America'
It began as a normal school day for the children of Dunblane
But when that day was over, things would never be the same
For outside the school's perimeter lurked a presence, dark, insane
Poised to steal the futures of the children of Dunblane
Into the school he entered, this cruel, embittered man
Unaware, the children laughed, as they danced and ran
His gunfire cut their laughter short, turned delighted squeals into screams
For this was the stuff of their nightmares, the darkness of their dreams
Hot bullets ripped through tender flesh, as brave teachers tried in vain
To shield their terrified young charges from the 'Madman of Dunblane'
As the stench of cordite filled the air, the smell so strong a scent
This evil man ceased firing, his ammunition all but spent
He placed his gun against his head, and surveyed his heinous crime
Then this evil, bitter, twisted coward pulled the trigger one more time
When news broke, our hearts went out to the parents of Dunblane
And influential people vowed this would never happen again
Yet just a few months later, cocooned in their ivory towers
Those MPs, who we elected, failed to wield their powers
This is the UK, not America, we must ban all private guns
To make this world a safer place for our daughters and our sons.
'This Is Not America'
It began as a normal school day for the children of Dunblane
But when that day was over, things would never be the same
For outside the school's perimeter lurked a presence, dark, insane
Poised to steal the futures of the children of Dunblane
Into the school he entered, this cruel, embittered man
Unaware, the children laughed, as they danced and ran
His gunfire cut their laughter short, turned delighted squeals into screams
For this was the stuff of their nightmares, the darkness of their dreams
Hot bullets ripped through tender flesh, as brave teachers tried in vain
To shield their terrified young charges from the 'Madman of Dunblane'
As the stench of cordite filled the air, the smell so strong a scent
This evil man ceased firing, his ammunition all but spent
He placed his gun against his head, and surveyed his heinous crime
Then this evil, bitter, twisted coward pulled the trigger one more time
When news broke, our hearts went out to the parents of Dunblane
And influential people vowed this would never happen again
Yet just a few months later, cocooned in their ivory towers
Those MPs, who we elected, failed to wield their powers
This is the UK, not America, we must ban all private guns
To make this world a safer place for our daughters and our sons.
Answers
Best Answer
No best answer has yet been selected by Ken4155. Once a best answer has been selected, it will be shown here.
For more on marking an answer as the "Best Answer", please visit our FAQ.I remember exactly where I was on that day when I first heard the news on my car radio, and my first thoughts were 'oh there must be a Dunblane in America' because the thought of it happening in the UK was unthinkable. I still feel an overwhelming sense of sadness when I think about those poor children and what they must have felt in their last moments on Earth.
BTW Ken sorry, but I don't like your poem, its a bit irreverent in my opinion.
BTW Ken sorry, but I don't like your poem, its a bit irreverent in my opinion.
Two quite differing responses to my poem. Though i appreciate your point of view, APG, i can assure you that irreverence was the furthest thing on my mind. As i say in the poem, my heart went out to those parents when i heard news of what took place and i was angered by what i perceived to be inaction by that day's government. The poem was meant to be a 'hard-hitting' criticism of that inaction; despite the horrors mentioned, our leaders had pussy-footed around, amending the odd gun ownership rule here and there instead of a blanket ban.
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