PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Pacing, racing, praying that the

news was non-existent

You did not just hear that thirty-two are dead

And one of them could be a very close friend

But you are at work, cut off from the world

Plastered to CNN, holding your mouth close

holding an imaginary hand

Praying to a God that you have not talked to in

a year and a half



Expecting. Oh we're always expecting.



Americans live off of this...the blood, the insanity

We flock together to mourn these children and then

we return home and fatten our asses and drink our beer

Because we've done our part, we've cried those tears



Ah but this one, this one hits too close to home

You know that thirty-two are dead

You know that you have not heard from your very close friend

And your heart sinks into this etchy, unconsolable place..

while pacing, racing, praying that we can just walk right

through this

and move on

But you've got things like CNN that remind you remind you

remind you of our emotional boundaries

And they are not so tall after all.