I wrote this around the time of the Las Vegas shooting and was really nervous about posting and I'm still processing what happened. This poem is for all those who lost their loved ones, I hope you like it. :)

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One day

Sunday

59 on the floor,

It's doomsday.

There goes a knock on my door

Excuse me?

Because suddenly she's not asleep

Where she?

My precious baby.

That's when they tell me

sorry lady

We identified her body

Ring ring

Ding ding

My telephone is blowing

Up.

Like her soul.

In to god's haven.