Olivia Rose Lanziero Azzolina, a 13-year-old seventh grader at Léman Manhattan Preparatory School.
After Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Tony Awards sonnet:
The hand that trembles uncontrollably,
That grips the gun that fires at an open sea of smiling
Faces. A mouth that shoots the
Words that stop the heartbeat quick; grasp the breathing
In a fist. A fist that punches the eyes of the pure and clean souls
that stepped valiantly out of there
Homes searching for the drug that injected smiles
Onto their faces. The faces that longed for the antidote
To a seemingly incomparable ribbon of pain tied in a perfect bow
By the boy or girl that broke the heart that
Did not know that the drug of happiness that came with
Side effects. The side effect of death that night,
Written on the label plastered to the bottle of sunshine that sat
waiting in a club.
Because love is love, is love, is love.
You love that girl, you love that boy who
Loves that boy, who loves that girl.
The light switch of a life slammed down by the commanding
Barrel of a gun. A gun purchased with a receipt —
be sure to practice gun safety!
But you didn’t listen. Your hatred crept into
Your fingertips. Your chaotic mind, bleeding signals
Dropping like army men. Their parachutes expanding,
Slowing pin-drop thoughts oozing into that
Crooked smile that sees the
Good in your evil actions.
Because love is love, is love, is love.
Olivia Rose Lanziero Azzolina, a 13-year-old seventh grader at Léman Manhattan Preparatory School, wrote this poem in response to the Orlando tragedy for an English class taught by Aubrey Sherman. Sherman’s class recently completed a series of poetry workshops led by Savon Bartley, a spoken word artist from Urban Word NYC.
