The Lost Children


Your decaying flesh rots my brain.
I don’t understand your undying pain.
Though it kills me to think of how lonely, and confused you must have been;
I know your pain as many do
But we don’t do the things you have done.

Is your pain burning that much in your flesh
like the bullet you composed
planting it with your flesh and bone
watering it with your blood
Your sweat nourishing it till it grew and hardened to be used?

Their words were harsh.
Your loneliness great.
And in the deepest part of my soul I pry for your salvation,
and hope that one day you’ll be ok.

There are no words to justify your actions
The pain you cause me, o how selfish to say.
the pain you cause the world, the families,
The people who probably destroyed you.
The ones that will blame your actions on the media, your upbringing,
anything but you and your mind, and the horrible things others said or did to you.

You terrify me, yet I can’t turn away from you.
Are my friends just as bad as you,
was I?
Can there really be no peace from the hell of ignorance than murder and death?
Will I cry for a lost friend one day?
The one that sowed like you?


poem © by Lin M.L.


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