Monday, December 24, 2012
A violent outburst of a malicious heart
evil intentions manifests in real time
beyond immoral outside of crime
the murder of youth is outside of my time
and outside of space unfathomable of my mind.
Destruction of the spirit and torturing of the soul
Innocence lost, they were punished by malice but guilty of nothing.
Those children were our future left abandoned and vulnerable.
They were forced to meet death
before ever becoming familiar with life.
There lives were brief
and stolen by a thief
the devil made flesh and in his path was grief.
Broken homes and shattered families
haunted bedrooms and dreams
unfinished at best
no justice for the families or the victims laid to rest.
Tragedy looms in the hearts of the damned
they seek no redemption
and only worship pain and suffering.
When love is rejected
hate is selected
these series of events are not random
A trend of sin
the madness of mass murder
the helpless and hopeless victims and villains.
As we feed this monster his spirit grows
the eyes may deny what the collective heart knows
this menace isn't finished and I shall not say his name
but we have failed our children
and too shall share the blame.
Our denial allows his existence
our luxuries and daily comforts make provisions for his antics
and his folly.
We ignore him
we pretend that he isn't close to home
we pretend that he can't reside within our gated communities
and private schools.
We pretend that he gets a cut of our children's tuition check
and it pays him off when it doesn't.
We pretend that we are good people and deserving of better
and that he cares.
We pretend that he respects our boundaries and shows sympathy
for our fears.
We pretend that he is not a monster that lives inside of
what we take for granted.
He lives inside of our false senses of security
and was born out of our negligence.
We are all parents to this monster and have raised him out of
our collective consciousness to be and do what he is and does.
He is the terror inside of us all and we gave him life
as he gives us death.
He has a name that I will not say.
He is real and busy.
He has escaped from mythology and freed himself
to be among the real and living.
No longer a fairy tale entity
or a figment of the imagination
residing in the closets
and under the beds of
Yesterday he followed them to school
and reared his ugly head from the shadows.
Today we are injured and ruined with mourning
sickened and saddened by a tragic loss
but in time we will recover.
In the meanwhile, he will not stop breathing his fire
of destruction and killing the innocent.
He is the coward and bastard child of our own wretchedness.
He is our very own...MONSTER!
Preston J. Harrison
This is another contribution from +Preston Harrison check out his other poems in our archives.