1 equals 59

A poem about the mass shooting in Las Vegas, Nevada.

How fast...
How sudden...
How brutal...
How painful...

Some measures are unmeasurable
It is to painful to be talked about or to even exist.
Like those bodies of strong and able swept
From sound of riffles

All beneath the shadows of the spotlight
As music echoes through the night
This music whose sound is supposed to bring gladness
Brought madness to the arena

When the screams and cries of innocent lives
Blocked out every ounce of music and happiness alive

How can one night...one man equal 59 funerals of innocent men?

Now, math was never my best subject
But I object if you say one equals 59
Without anything being added or subtracted to it
But in this case...he added a choice and a bullet.

And when you ask why?
Why are we in danger?
Where did this anger come from that costs lives to vanish from our eyes?

The answer "we don't know"
For his motives were unknown
So how can we know what's in that person's mind
When he himself took his own life

Now, where does this go...
How does one say to a mother 'your daughter was shot or say to a father 'your son was not...not spared'?

How will one say to person, "Carry one its done."
When the person they love is gone?