Strike

Amid the rubble, smoke swirls about

Bricks in piles, broken fragments of life

Screaming our sorrows, hopelessness throughout

Tension rides the wind, camp is filled with strife

Visions of death and pain consume our minds

Should I feel jealous or pity the dead?

At peace, cold victims of the masterminds

Who planned the attacks for which we all have bled

I must block out the hurt and be strong, brave

Ignore the broken world surrounding me

Forget about those resting in their grave

Until I find time to mourn in safety

And while I survive through this bitter time.

-Chickadee

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