Each day, same story, different grisly form.
Served by reporters with Barbie-doll smiles.
Crawling horrors, let loose to freely swarm,
exaggerations spread unchecked for miles.
Where is this goodness that some swear exists?
The courage, honor, or humanity?
All good stories are now told with the fists.
Has no one noticed this insanity?
I grow so weary to tales of terror.
How I long for the hidden compassion!
There must be a typo, or an error,
how can they miss all this blaring passion?
Let’s view the world through an optimist’s gleam,
and turn this silence into the new scream.
