Unopened Presents

In God's image, more than any of us, in essence
their innocence apparent, not even to adolescence
Swept away on this December day without hesitance
their short lives, like unopened presents

Too young to know of evil's permeation in this world,
their youthful minds, like a flag still furled,
Taken by a predator, acting not on instinct nor need
but on selfishness, wickedness and greed

A premeditated act is most reprehensible,
the tools of the crime render his purpose ostensible
Even with time to ponder his bloody mission,
One hundred rounds details a clear decision

An ax to grind or an unfulfilled existence,
may explain his utter lack of reticence,
those explanations, while indicative of the cause
shall not heal the broken hearts nor give the vengeful any pause

In this season of giving, he has taken
the meaning of Christmas, by him, forsaken
dressed in battle fatigues, like a soldier at war
in actuality, a coward, who should be standing alone at Death's door

Alas, he is not, but as the Lord once said,
He who sheds innocent blood, so shall his blood be shed,
Regardless of their death, no matter how gruesome or hostile,
The pure in heart shall see God according to the Gospel

For those who are left to mourn, the pain may never leave
in this season, where we use words like birth, life and believe,
For them, it will forever remind them of Evil's cruel irreverence,
as they endure a lifetime of unopened presents.