Easter Sunday

How’d you come to be so cruel?
How’d you come to cause such pain?
Is this what you wanted?
To believe you’d make it rain?
Well now it’s raining blood
And flesh and guts and tears
Bleeding hearts of innocents
And of you and of your peers
What sort of mental illness
Forms such a breed of psychopath?
Tell me, what kind of madness
Forms a man without a heart?
A man who’d pull the trigger
To kill himself and hundreds more
Men, women and children
Tell me, are you keeping score?
What sort of heaven
Do you believe that you could reach
On a tsunami wave of blood
Over a flesh covered beach?
How’d you come to be so ruthless?
What makes a man so cruel?
Your hatred burns like fire
Where could you find such fuel?
You may have left us shattered
But we will persevere with love
And we will triumph over evil
You can be sure, we’ll rise above.

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This entry was posted in sad poems, unromantic and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Easter Sunday

  1. Charaka says:

    Timely poem. A tragedy indeed. Despite what happened, despite the brothers, sisters, children and parents lost, I appreciate the fact that you ended it on a positive note (“And we will triumph over evil
    You can be sure, we’ll rise above”). Yes, we will!

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