A Little Pink Bow
by Southern Comfort
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Rated "G" by the Author.
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When I kissed Emma good-bye, I never thought it would be the last time.
I lovingly brushed her angel silken hair and added a little pink bow,
I hugged her close and then off to school we did go.
The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day,
Little did I know that evil was a heartbeat away.
I kissed Emma good-bye saying," Now be good,I'll pick you up at three",
If I could have seen the future, I would have grabbed her back to me.
Back at home, housework claimed my mind,
There was a mountain of dirty laundry and stray socks to find.
Emma, my angel, my rainbow's pot of gold,
She is my Slice Of Heaven, to have and to hold.
A sweet blend of suger and spice,
She could transform the grayish day into something nice.
I was making chocolate chip cookies, her favorite treat,
I imagined chocolate smuges on her face so sweet.
The phone rang and a frantic voice screamed," Turn on your TV!"
A special report of doom, was what I was about to see.
A crazed gunman had entered Emma's school,
He was shooting children, how could anyone be so cruel?
My heart sank and my blood ran cold,
This was a Mother's worst nightmare, starting to unfold.
OH GOD! Was my Emma all right?
I grabbed a butcher knife as I ran out the door, I was gonna fight!
I pulled up to the school, amid chaos, people running all around,
The police seemed to be baffled, things like this didn't happen in our town.
While the drama was unfolding, I slipped through the front door,
There were already dead bodies all over the floor.
I ran to Emma's room, saying a prayer,
I was terrified of what I would find there.
The room was deadly still,
I forced my feet onward, against their will.
The room seemed to be empty, with no one there,
Then I spied a little body laying behind a chair.
On shakey knees, with tears running down,
My worst fears realized, it was Emma's lifeless body I'd found.
There was blood on her little pink bow, from a shot to the head,
My life ended that second, My Emma was dead.
I hugged her close and kissed her good-bye,
I swore aloud that evil beast was gonna die!
I became the hunter, my butcher knife in hand,
Suddenly I encountered the gun wielding man.
He had his back to me taking aim,
On another group of children, their lives he was gonna claim.
I rushed up behind him and plunged the knife in deep,
Screaming," You killed my Emma, you creep!"
With pain-filled eyes, he spun around,
I felt the bullet rip through me, then we both hit the ground!
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|Reviewed by Rodney Bohen
|Honesty cleans the slate & frees our soul
|Reviewed by Felix Perry
|The thought of one of my girls or grandaughters suffering such a fate would drive me to do the same thing I am afraid, there is a limit to forgiveness and if someone ever harmed one of my babies like that my own rifle would send a message too soon.
|Reviewed by Poetess of The Soul Sheila G
|Powerful yet deadly~!
Truly strongly written SC~!
SAD to SAy - A True write and
YOU always write your stories on target with a constant fine flow!
What a muse leading you~!!
Warmly, WArrior "Spirit" Lady Sheeeoox
|Reviewed by Flying Fox Ted L Glines
|Like Walt said ... Wow! You brought the tears with this one, Lady! A horrible happening but a perfect piece of writing ... which NEEDS to be published!
|Reviewed by Walt Hardester
|Reviewed by Lydia Shutter (Reader)
|We live in horrifically scarey times! Riveting story here, PA! Lydi**|
|Reviewed by H Cruz
|Interesting muse; chaos in the schools. I gues modern youth's suicides like the idea of company, could there be anything more terrifying. A smoking gun in a school and a new breed of terrorists.|
|Reviewed by James Wright
|You have tugged at my heart strings this day. Emma is in Heaven.|
|Reviewed by stan nassano
|SC all your story poems have a constant flow to them all ,that seems effortless.I would thinf a loss of a child has to be one of life's worst losses,your description sounds way to close to the real thing,there is never music playing in the background,mostly stillness,but evey tragic scene is different ,but the pain is allways present. take cae stan nassano|