Crying children.

The words burn in our hearts as
sweet innocence dissolves
into flowing blood and ceaseless anguish
and we wonder
why?

A mother hugs her daughter
"Goodbye, Lynn"
she runs to her classroom
she does not know
the goodbye is forever...

A teacher watches her charges
run and play, scream and laugh
suddenly a man appears at the door
stern, silent, deadly, spraying bullets
She dives to protect the children
she dies too...

Tiny bodies, lifeless
a medieval carnage ripping
joy from the world for at least
one day, one week
how long?

Each day before, each day after
hard hands of fathers break their children's hearts
leaving bruises inside and out
bullets cleave sons from their weeping mothers
in places we have not been
a slow and wretched death
swells the belly of a sobbing hungry child
and we cry for the children...

"Time and chance happens to us all"
the Preacher said
oh how swift time
and how wicked chance
we seek goodness in an evil world
and come up empty-handed

We cannot bring back the children
we cannot stem the pain
we cannot stop the carnage
we cannot excise the evil
we can only say

"May the lord take a better care of you than this world ever did"

help the children from abuse.