Last Stop*

A nine year-old girl and an Uzi,
When combined in a singular breath,
Is a set-up for certain disaster,
Which in this case, resulted in death.

At a shooting range in Arizona,
While her parents recorded the scene,
The instructor stood next to their daughter,
A scenario they called routine.

But the weapon was too much to handle
And the bullets flew out of control.
What began as the thrill of a lifetime
Took a somber and sorrowful toll.

For the girl killed her shooting instructor
And must live with that thought evermore,
But the guilt should reside with her parents,
Whose stupidity’s hard to ignore.

Yet the blame must be shared with the venue,
Putting guns in the hands of a child
And there simply is no explanation
That could help things to be reconciled.

*the name of the shooting range