POETRY: #PorteOuverte

By Natasha Ley | BA English, Stage 3

It feels like the end

When the explosions start and the gunfire rattles through the concert hall

Black and red, rubble and shrapnel

When those that run get shot down, you hide

Beneath the bodies of those who didn’t make it

Beneath the weight of 128 feared dead.

Their faces will be in the papers

And on the news.

Their blood will be on your shirt

And in your hair

You feel the gunman; a monster under the bed

Come out to play

Nothing can save you now

It’s creeping closer and closer behind you

You feel breath on your neck and play dead

Don’t breathe don’t breathe stay quiet.

 

But remember this:

It’s never the end

When the sun rises and the city wakes

When people invite strangers into their homes

Just to keep them off the streets

When the streets are paved with candles

And flowers

You feel the warmth of arms around you

You feel your own heart beating

You feel the city’s heart beating

The world’s heart beating

See that open door

See your people rise from the ashes

Take their hands into yours, let them know you won’t be broken.

Breathe. Breathe. Make some noise.

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