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Yea, Though I Walk How sad and shocking it is to be assaulted by the news and death of our innocents; Our children our resource destroyed. Our blood and the blood of thirteen dear and precious souls gone, Except in memeory and the eternal tears of sympathy. Besieged by depression, so dark and iniquitous. As to take away hope and others' pain so great as to be our own. Unity, through shock and sorrow, Unity, preserved by our communications. Their violent murders cannot be in vain! A ray of promise and a promise of light originates from this holiest of shrines, on ground that has become hallowed, by the blood of the blameless, A place of everlasting mourning. What price for sanctification? They never knew the millions who loved them, Loved by millions who are no longer strangers. Let us not not think of the sanguineous deed, instead we'll remember how well they all lived. Why waste our time with the assigning the blame. We know in our hearts there is guilt in us all. Hope that the tides from this ocean of tears, will erode just a little hate in this world. And a promise from millions to the martyred thirteen, none will be forgotten 4/20/1999 |
Additional Notes:
This poem was wriiten just after the shootings a t Columbine High School in Littleton, Colorado.
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