Next Time

 

I couldn’t stop the killings
When smoke darkened the skies
Of a September morning
And the towers of my soul
Crumbled in terror
As the body count mounted.

I was too far away.

I couldn’t stop the killings
When children crouched under desks
And hid in closets
Waiting for the monster
who ended their lives
Even before they had lived it.

I was too far away.

I couldn’t stop the killings
When the City of Lights
Turned into a nightclub of mourning
With sirens wailing,
Glasses shattering, and hatred
Singing the music of the streets.

I was too far away.

And I couldn’t stop the killings
When Orlando cried for
A soothing lullaby
Because its sleep
Had turned into a nightmare
Of dead friends and lovers

I was too far away.

Next time I want to be there
For the boy, or girl
The man, or woman
The straight, or gay
Who bleeds
From an act of hatred.
If I can’t stop the killings
At least I want to be there
To cleanse their wounds
With tears of love!

 

PS. How did Orlando massacre affect you?

2 thoughts on “Next Time

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