2The love of hate,
The hate of love,
The power of a gun,
That kills the flying dove.
The teens they hold,
The hate that kills,
A gun in hand,
That does the damage at will.
The shots they ring,
That tears each soul apart,
Telling of the tragedy,
That breaks everyone's heart.
The innocent bodies,
That lay on the ground,
Victims of death,
Lives taken to never be found.
The death that hangs,
Now in the air,
The damage done,
By those who don't care.
But hope still floats,
For those heads held high,
To look forward for the better,
But look back and say good-bye.