In Your Hands: An Ode to Legislators

This poem was submitted by an Iowa constituent.


You beam from ear to ear
and pass out big cigars,
when they come safely into this world.
You cuddle this little miracle of love
in your hands.

You buy a little backpack,
and send them off with a hug.
You picture their smiling faces,
gathered on the kindergarten rug.
They learn reading, math and art.
At that time, you can’t imagine
a bullet to their heart.

When they’re in middle school,
no more band, football or fun.
They better be on the track team
so they can learn how to run
for their lives.
High school students
understand more than you!

You say you want a recess
from the work you haven’t done,
while children never have a recess
with innocence again.
You sit on your hands,
while there is a raging battle
we have not won.

You mingle with your buddies
golfing at a posh resort,
playing with your wealth
instead of caring for our health.
You secure campaign notoriety
while we make ER trips,
because of our anxiety.

When you wash your hands
like Pontius Pilate
at the end of the day,
do you really think
you’re washing responsibility away?
You could draft a bill
to help this nightmare go away.

Children’s lives
are in your hands!
Where is your soul?
It’s so obvious
we need gun control.
Pick up a weapon of protection.
The pen is in your hands!

An Iowa constituent

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