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Was God alive when children bled and died
And anguished mothers bowed their heads and cried?
God lived in Newtown, died in Sandy Hook.
Does God know how much he screwed us up
When he made the world and messed it up
And for guidance left a holy book?
I was the geek who others cursed and scorned
Was not with beauty or with friends adorned.
I am other, you love to spit on me.
I was the nerd, the weakling vampire boy
Whose lowly status fed communal joy
So you could lord and lady be...
We are ants living in a hill,
Coordinated motion, never still:
The hive alone has purpose that is real.
I want to be a good little ant
A part of something better, but I can’t:
So much hatred, pride, and greed I feel.
An ant is nothing by itself you see,
The hill is greater than its parts can be:
An ant can’t sing, just squeak, so I do squeal.
copyright Ron Stephens 2012
all rights reserved
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