Note: In memory of Sandy Hook.

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A Mother:

It was a normal day.

I took him to school.

We laughed in the car,

and sang silly songs.

I told him,

"Have a great day."

He said,

"I love you."

He said.

A Child:

It was a normal day.

Mummy took me to school.

We played the whole way.

She said,

"Have a great day!"

I told her,

I loved her so much.

She gave me a hug,

a kiss,

I gave her one, too.

I gave her one.

A Brother:

He finally went to school.

Then,

I had the whole house to myself.

I played on his bed,

I ate his secret snacks,

I drew pictures,

on his coloring book.

But then,

I missed him.

I still do but,

I don't talk about it.

A Mother:

"What's going on?"

I couldn't think.

"What do you mean?"

I couldn't tell.

"This is real?"

I didn't want to believe.

I raced there,

perplexed but,

fearful.

Someone was shot.

A teacher.

"But,

my son's fine."

I thought.

I thought.

A Child:

I just ran,

down the hall.

I just ran,

and didn't think.

I wanted to ask,

"Mummy,

why is he shooting us?"

I wanted to ask.

I wanted to.

A Brother:

I think about him,

sometimes,

when I can.

When I don't feel too sad.

I remember,

we used to play,

with plastic robots.

Little ones.

He made up games,

so he would win.

He made them up.

He'll never make up

another game.

I still have those,

plastic robots.

Mom still has his,

unwashed pajamas.

A Mother:

Some said it was fake.

Some said,

"It's a hoax."

They must be so lucky,

to have such leisure,

to feel so safe,

to not have to deal with

the fact

(I wish was untrue)

that my son is dead.

My little boy,

has gone before me.

A Child:

Why us?

Why me?

Why Sandy Hook?