“Shot.”
“Mom shot.”
“Dad shot.”
Dad lying atop
my tiny body.
Dad blocked
the shot
and the new word
death taught.
The new word
killed Mom.
Killed Dad.
Killed Family.
Killed us all.
Shot,shot,shot,shot!
Shot,shot,shot,shot!
Shot,shot,shot,shot!
Repeat it with me
over and over and over.
Mom shot.
Dad shot.
Shot,shot,shot,shot!
words no two year old
should know.
Shot,shot,shot,shot!
Shot,shot,shot,shot!
Shot.
Shot.
Shot.
Shot.
annarino writes 
Three years ago. A sister laid on her baby brother, protecting him from a shooter. She was killed. 10 years ago. A teacher who survived the Death camps of Germany. He put his 76 year old body against a door. His students escaped through a window. He was shot many times. We must change our world. I have asked often. What are the children seeing?
The inability to feel others pain seems rampant right now. And I constantly remind myself that perhaps my perception is clouded by the sheer mendacity of only a few t paint that picture and make us accept as the norm. Your words, and our history, reminds me that there is love in the world; enough to overcome the hate. Thank you for the comment.
I loved your poetry my friend. I have five grandchildren. I see confusion in their eyes. I try to show them the lakes and the fun things in our world. We must try to make our world better and you are welcome.