Poetry

Little lives lost

By MIKE ABEL | Published: December 28, 2012

And so you’re gone my precious child; out of our lives and out of your future.
But never out of our hearts and fondest memories.
We’re numb with pain, angry, riled; what can undo the deeds of that creature?
We’re lesser now, made empty by Lanza’a atrocities.
Who can we blame who is at fault; should I have acted on my early eerie feeling?
A million what ifs flood our tears and dash our hopes.
They won’t let me hear your living voice, tussle your hair or stop me from reeling.
Did you cry, did you call for mommy, how did you cope?
Is the licence to carry a gun or the lobby that sustains that right the slayer?
Is it our nation’s eroding moral code that left you cold?
All I know is that there’s no one sleeping in your bed; no good night kiss or prayer.

For our precious darling child, the bells have tolled.

Mike Abel
15th December 2012

In honour of the victims of the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School