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Tribute to Newtown
Death,
it surrounds me now like a cold, black curtain.
The feeling comes to me like a sheet of dark, cold ice, like a razor,
cutting my heart in half.
“Good God, these are my children!
Lying there dead, worthless in the sight of their murder.”
They were too young to die, too young to know what being shot feels like.
It was just a normal day.
To math, history, reading, science they went,
Smiles on there faces, ready for a new day,
ready to learn.
It was just an ordinary day.
Kids coloring pictures in art, master pieces that would surely earn the praise of their teacher.
Bits of crumbs of toast dribbled along with spots of orange juice on their shirts from
a normal breakfast.
Kids shooting hoops in gym class, seeing who can get the most points.
Not knowing what was coming.
Gone, they now are, twenty of them.
Gone.
Six teachers trying to protect the young, like a mother, died trying.
Gone, lost from the grips of life.
Kids now crying in the corners,
their friends, cousins, brothers, sisters, laying at random spots in the
hall, dead.
Why did it have to happen to them?!
They were too young to pass from this life.
Firefighters,
Police men,
Doctors, nurses,
Pilots,
Train engineers,
Soldiers,
Vets,
Crime investigators,
Actors,
Singers,
Lawyers,
That’s what they wanted to be!
Dreams now shattered, gone from the thin air.
Even the dreams of possibly, one day, being the President of the United States!
Mothers, fathers rushing to the school, to take their children home.
Teachers comforting.
Hope, for all their souls,
that they would not be forgotten.
Gone.
May they rest in peace.
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