If It Were My Child

A poem about Uvalde

If it were my child

I would stand in the middle of a busy street and scream until my voice left my body.

If it were my child

I would rip out every hair from my head until I covered the grass with my pain.

If it were my child

I would scale the tallest building and stomp until it fell down.

If it were my child

I would beat my chest and bare my fangs and throw myself up against glass until it shattered —

Like my spirit.

They are… they were all our children.

All our grandparents.

All our neighbors.

Our friends and relatives.

Innocent.

They don’t deserve to die in vain.

I must always act as if it were my child or my parent or my friend.

We cannot go on this way.

Or we can no longer call ourselves human.