Memories flood me when I’m driving,
Random bits of my life
Bubbling up to the surface
While I try to figure out
Where I’m going.
This morning, it was the Johanssen’s Sporting GoodsMassacre.
I guess it’s not fair
To call the murder of two people
a massacre, but it was. I was in high school.
Johanssen’s sponsored all of my school’s
sports, Provided trophies and uniforms.
A girl who graduated the year before
And another who graduated before her
Were murdered in cold blood
When the store was robbed one weekday
afternoon, I think it was a
Tuesday.
Even those of us who didn’t
Personally know them were shattered; it
happened to all of us,
And we were devastated, like only teenagers, adults, and children can be.
Today, on the way to work
In my memory drive,
I could only remember
One girl’s name.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a weirdo nerd who’s extremely subversive. I like rocks, incense, and all kinds of witchy stuff. Intrusive rhyme bothers me.
I’m known as Dena Brown to the revenuers and pollsters.
MA English literature, College of Charleston
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More stories from Harper Lewis and writers in Poets and other communities.
Political Thirty-Three
Inevitable? A woman named Good is lost. Unforgivable. * Note: I don't think that I have to explain this one to anyone noting recent news, but I have included a video link below for future generations who can still feel empathy and compassion for someone who got caught up in history. And I was just too angry to say more with this piece.
By Kendall Defoe 4 days ago in Poets
Comments (1)
Wow, Some morning commutes are difficult aside from the traffic.