There are few words to describe

The look of pain in a young child’s eyes

That look reflects atrocities they shouldn’t have seen

And recount loss of what before was serene

No amount of money could ever restore

What here in our land we say we abhor

There’s not enough dialogue or heated debate

To restore young minds or evil abate

News from distant lands so grim

What is the plight of foreign lands,

Have we failed them?

I’ve not seen the terror their eyes have seen

The blood, violent noises, the harrowing eyes

I’ve not held my breath waiting to die

But I cry

I pray

I hope for change

There are not enough words

To demonstrate

To hesitate

About somebody else’s life

Because of the big me…me…me

What can truly change a heart?

What can we hope to start?

What seeds sprout peace?

What words evict blood lust?

What actions can annihilate a weapon’s demise?

I cry…I weep

Because I cannot conceive


I pray

I hope


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