‘Crazy Jarrod is what they all said,
The lies in that f… fake newspaper I read!
This is all their fault, they made me see red,
And now all over this paper my story’s spread.’
How my grievances hit the front page,
Jarrod, famous, is standing centre stage,
My word being ignored was the real outrage
So I punctuated my point with a twelve gauge.
Back to my safe secure cell I’m silently led,
There to to contemplate my sins on my single bed,
Oh, to say I’m sane or blame the ‘voices’ in my head?
Option One leaves the NRA legal team in mortal dread.
(This is not meant to be flippant, its more with a sense of weary resignation.)
At Plato’s Closet, where thrifty bargains abound
Dad shopped while Mom waited in the car with the kid,
Whatever is this heavy metal thing the kid found?
Could it be something silly Daddy should’ve hid?
Dad, your handy handgun shouldn’t be left lying around,
It may lead to a bloody unfortunate accident, God forbid,
Some do argue a gun with Safety on is safe and sound,
But Dad, leaving it on- and loaded- is, put simply, stupid.
When one itchy-fingered but innocent kid let loose a round,
Towards the warm Indiana earth Mom gracelessly slid,
Has a little kid ever taught Dad a lesson more profound?
You bet your ever-lovin’ wife’s life this kid did.