The Hurt Feels So Familiar

Hurt Feels Familiar

Tonight hope does not fade
But limps away or bleeds out slowly
When the room is dark.
And stars in the sky are silent.

Fragments of bodies
Are still stretched out
Upon the floor, one by one,
Each alone, without witnesses.

Throughout the world there is an echo,
Tearful cries and soft sobs from mothers,
Fathers, brothers, sisters and friends
Whose lives are forever changed.

No one is ready to stand
And say “Enough…”
So don’t shut your eyes
And miss it when it happens again.

Cross over the street and perhaps
You’ll get a closer view—
Because it will not stop here.
It hurts, but at least the hurt is familiar.


5 thoughts on “The Hurt Feels So Familiar

  1. I do read your posts from time to time, without comment. I say, today, that the sense of impotence in the face of such devastation is reborn with every carnage.

  2. You capture the sense of helplessness so well, Fred. Thank you. I am heartbroken and angry. My love to you both.

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