Imagine here, in this old world
We like to think “Progress”.
And yet in many ways we are
Going back – I now digress.
To think that in this mobile time
We’re made to know the score.
That hurting others, hurts oneself.
It tears in two – we’re torn.
The two just torn in shreds were boys.
Mere children, who should play.
Instead the one who nurtures them
Drowned all their future days.
Out of our new enlightened age
We saw perspective sink.
Beyond our comprehension here,
We can barely grasp a link.
A woman loses nerve to kill
Herself – we’re not perplexed.
She has no problem watching, though
As her children meet their death.
A tiny face, a struggle, sure.
She looks on who gave birth.
She left them there, remorse afloat.
What were her children worth?
Their button faces, angelic form
Will haunt us – what’s amiss?
Their innocence and trusting souls
Saw mommy blow a kiss.
It speaks to future paths we tread.
Indeed, it lights a spark.
Concern to us, at least should be:
Justice – please make your mark!