A Little Girl with Light-Up Shoes
(Performed at: Franklin High School 2023 Poetry Slam, First Place Winner; Verslandia, Top Ten)
I need new shoes a little girl said
on a sparkling, sunny,
Monday in March.
The sun was bright,
sunbeams shine,
but the little girls face reflected rain
I need new shoes she said to her mom
who asked why?
The shoes had been bought last week
on Eleanor street
and had filled the little girls face with glee
purple shoes that lit up
in brilliant bright
blues and pinks
So why oh why does she need new shoes?
Because, the little girl replied
as she squeezed her face tight
The lights will give me away
and I don’t want him to shoot me
So I need new shoes
the little girl plead.
I don't want them to
shoot me.
Now don’t be alarmed
this is a world with active shooter drills,
practicing, precautions,
hope you're good at staying still.
Where everyone knows the monthly routine:
Crowd all in one corner.
Hold your breath.
Wonder if it’s real or
just a test.
Endless rumors
either way.
Text I love you
just in case.
A miniclue chance they say
but the real events happen everyday.
So we practice drills,
try to stay calm,
plan our way away from harm,
and hope our heart beats don’t give you away.
Or the little girls light up shoes.
A miniscule chance?
Something is very wrong
This has been happening for far to long,
The news is riddled with tragedy
and we can’t seem to go a week without
“A New Message from Remind:”
“Dear Franklin community,
Today we were made aware”
“Dear Franklin community,
We were recently informed”
“Dear Franklin community,
Safe spaces are for everyone”
“Dear Franklin community,
Today was a stark and devastating reminder,”
We are not safe
“Dear Franklin community,
It is with great sorrow that we inform,”
Dear Franklin community:
This poem had been written a million times
wouldn’t be shocked if it's been heard today,
we are all angry we are all scared
but no one ever seems to care.
It comes with the rights they say
but those are being stripped away
And the only one protected is to easily
take lives
How is that right?
Now I’m not offering a solution.
There is no resolution.
People have already died.
There is no bringing them back.
There is no turning back time.
And no change will be made without more hurt,
but people are dying for outdated words
This poem has been written a million times
But no one is listening to all the cries
And this one will enter the same void, noise,
screams
and we can’t sound out the
crack
of the noise.
This poem will be written,
We'll scream at the top of our lungs,
But a little girl will need new shoes,
and we will be
numb.