Lisper, stutterer, bullied loner,
Troubled teen called Pelon, and now dead felon
How do you even spot, let alone stop,
A deranged Ramos, a would be gunner
Cousin Mia vouches school’s torture,
And the private impassioned pleas to flee,
Soon a school dropout, and a gamer sans pathos,
As alone as all, what triggered Salvador Ramos?
Ah for a magic wand, a timely hand,
A twist in the tale, or a Texan hurricane,
Whatever, it would take, to destack
The last twig from John Doe’s back.
A motherly look? Maybe!
A father's hug? Maybe!
A paid phone bill? May be!
Some gun control? Surely!
Anything! Anything at all!
If only the carnage came not to be!
Anything! Anything at all!
If only nineteen angels came not to be!