I hear America mourning, diverse sobs of fear and sorrow.
The silver, lonely tears of an only child, crying in distress,
while looking at a once memorable picture of his divorced parents on cold, concrete stairs.
The sad sobbing of a teacher mourning over the disrespect
and hate the students throw at her everyday,
feeling as if the long, ghastly days
are an endless, dark and lonely tunnel.
A soldiers distance whimpers as he witnesses his friend's deaths, with his own tired, glassy eyes.
A student bawling over losing her best friend from a drunk driver,
feeling vulnerable to the silent and concealed dismay,
masked in its own pathetic way of fear and sorrow like a forlorn silhouette, lurking in the shadows of dusk.
The silent wails of a priest begging to God, to help people stop sinning.
To stop hating and killing and start loving and helping.
But the sharp pain inside him was knowing that vile people,
having a strong and growing fire of hatred inside them,
can block out love and kindness so shamelessly.
A tennis player grieving over losing a precious game,
hearing the screams of wrath in the back of her mind,
telling her she could have done better.
A quiet lament of a parent reading about the unfortunate children
committing suicide and the violence of young children bringing guns and knives to school because
of the irresponsibility of ignorant parents.
A mother weeping over the loss of a child,
a child that meant the whole world to her.
Shrieking in anguish, she cradles the infant in her gentle arms, not being able to let go.
