MIA ~ Brent Harris

Verse II

Remember the numbers are someone’s mother, son
Father, daughter, aunt or uncle and it may be anyone
Rich or poor, special on either end of the spectrum
Smart, stupid, hawk, dove may die at the end of a gun

In or from an ivory tower its fiery wrath may descend
From a young hand or old hand, an enemy or friend
Whether from a single shot or an extended magazine
No matter, you’ll still be as dead; know what I mean

You will cease to live, but you won’t cease to matter
In the tears, pain and loss in the lives that will shatter
And some will still say it is just some stupid number
But not those whose loved-ones will forever slumber

Slumber rhymes, but all those killed will only be dead
Whether murder, drive-by, a straight shot to the head
Innocent bystander, target, soldier, by your own hand
A forlorn tramp or a hero; will they strike up the band

Suicide, accident, murder just names that deny people
Human lives lost while hunting or shot from a steeple
Murdered by maniacs or hermit dreams to decimate
They might all as well be us, as we share the same plate

Can you wonder that I think this world is quite insane
I, another inmate, but one who would see sanity again
And I know that all weapons won’t disappear overnight
Paranoia says we all will save some for a random fight

All guns may kill us, yet some are meant for daily use
A person-to-person call for which there is no excuse
So let us not be blinded by numbers meant to shock
Each number human and you and I stand in the dock