Slice open your chest
With a rusting blade
And rip out
Your blackened heart
Pull at every sinew
And shred it into a million pieces
Yank at all the arteries
And squeeze out all the blood
And the pain that should follow
Would still not equate
To what a picture of a five year old does
Sitting peacefully in a chair too big
An ambulance made for grown-up bodies
Filled with children too young to know of grief
Indifferent to their bleeding bodies
Too dazed to weep or to speak
Or what the scene of an infant does
Lying face down in the arms of the sea
Sleeping an eternal sleep
Dreaming of dreams
more promising
than reality
No pain you inflict
Upon your worthless body
Can measure up to the silence
That screams like blaring sirens
In your face, when you see
What we’ve done
To God’s beautiful country

3 thoughts on “Pain?”

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