A/N: Hi, y'all! I was inspired to write this poem after reading an article about alternatives to violent video games and the subsequent comments of users on Common Sense Media. It surprised me how some people seemed so chill about playing really violent games. I mean, I get it's not a good thing to be overprotective of your kids, but do you really want them playing a game where you can set people on fire, chop them into pieces, and spill blood all over the screen, not to mention witness sex and profanity? So that got me wondering what a fictional character would think of the constant debate over violent media and this poem was born. I hope you enjoy it, and please do leave feedback or your own opinion on this hot issue!-PhantasyPhan13


Killing Can't Set Me Free

Life never had to be this way-I could have been anything when I started out

Yet the path you draw for me is one filled with torture and pain

I grit my teeth and raise my shield, but there's nothing to stop the rain of blood

From falling down on me as I valiantly try to defend myself from this hell

Why would you want this for me in the first place?

What's your message, your intention, your purpose for creating all of this?

Do you realize what kind of an impact this is having on your target audience?

How many men, women, boys, and girls who see this will be affected?

Will you raise a generation of killers, baying for the next surge of pixilated gore?

Or simply a crowd who sees all manners of violence and merely shrugs their shoulders?

They look and say, "It's not that bad," or "They can handle that."

But there's no excuse for it-blood is blood and violence is violence

No matter what you call it

Every fiber of my being, every code of my inherent programming fights against this

I never wanted to be a part of this endless insanity

The nightmare you call my world

The storyline you wrote for me is full of misery and all conceivable forms of pain

But did I-or your audience-really deserve all of this, for that matter?

Why, I could have been chasing butterflies in a field or drinking coffee in a café

If you're REALLY as great a writer as you say you are, I'm sure you could've found a way

To make THOSE everyday activities an original and fascinating story!

But no-instead you go for the obvious

The blood, the violence, the profanity, the sex, the shock-value

And leave what could have been a true piece of art lying neglected in the dust

While you laugh and rub your greedy paws together

Betting on how many copies will sell

And how much money you can get in return for it

When we, your beloved characters, struggle to find an escape from the gore-pit

When we could have starred in something truly spectacular

Or at least done something SOMEWHAT more productive

Like folding laundry or doing the dishes

We have lives just like you do, yet you seem so ignorant of that fact

You treat us like servants-no, like your slaves

And inflict cruelty upon cruelty without even THINKING of the damage you're causing!

Not just to people who actually SEE our work, but to us as well!

For instance, do you have any idea how many of us DIE each year

Just because you're far too lazy to give us a more interesting fate?

Why can't we be reformed or end up in jail?

Or even dissolve into thin air, never to be seen or heard from again?

Or what about letting our souls or consciousness live on

Wandering in a world we truly loved or despised, hidden to millions we knew?

Now THAT would be something truly worth seeing

But no, you take the easy way out instead, how wonderful

Your words bind us more powerfully than a thousand iron chains

We struggle against them, yet they hold us captive in our little cells

We wait for the moment with our heads hung low

Prepared to fight for our lives once again

The battlefield beckons, the screams begin to ring

And with heavy legs and heavy hearts we set out for the war

Not knowing what crassness or horror we may encounter

Foul words flow from our lips when we wished to stay clean

Forced against our will to become killing machines

The sword feels so heavy in my hand

All I want to do is drop it and rush to safety

Why can't I speak out for peace and brotherhood?

All I really wanted was a place to call my home

I'd ASSUMED you would have treated me well when we made this deal

But the slaughter you create in this chaos has become the only thing that's real

Running through the ranks of the army, gun in my hand

I rush against the onslaught, shooting countless men in the hoard

All the screams and corpses layer on top of one another

Like grains of sand piled up to create a castle towering over the surf

Not only soldiers, but women and children too I'm compelled to harm

Why must I commit such horrible crimes?

In the real world, I'd surely have been executed by now for these misdeeds

And yet you force me to continue?

Think about it: Is the violence really necessary, or can you cut it out altogether?

If you're creating a story about a war or trying to point out how wrong violence is

I'm fine with that, but when you make something like this where violence is rewarded

Think about what you're doing next time

Because WE have to suffer as well

And unless you're saying what needs to be said or creating a compelling plot point

Take our needs into consideration like you would if we were real and breathing

And sculpt beauty from the endless darkness we inhabit

Instead of condemning us all to death

The world needs light, yet you give it blackness

Let a little beam shine through on us from time to time

And our lives will be all the better for it

If only you'd listen to our little whispers

Perhaps life for us would improve

And for your viewers as well

Once in a while, put down your pen and consider the world

Of the fictional characters you create

Because our hearts beat too

We have our own philosophies and beliefs

So just stop for a moment and think about what you're doing

Before any more of us innocents fall before your infallibility.