Two mass shootings took the lives of twenty-nine this afternoon.
Fifty-one (at least) were injured, every life cut short too soon.
Exiting a downtown bar or looking for a loaf of bread,
Simply minding their own business only to be shot down, dead.
How I wish I could ignore it, or pretend that all is well.
For reality is painful when it’s touched and burned by hell.
Evil is, I fear, a part of each and every human soul.
Thankfully most of us keep such tendencies under control.
But, when inhibitions fail to keep unbalanced minds unchecked,
Madness, like a mushroom cloud, erupts and people’s lives are wrecked.
While I sit, and grieve, and ponder what to do, or think, or say,
Politicians use my grief to try and turn the polls their way.
Robert Frost once wrote that there were “miles to go before I sleep.”
____For those whose miles were swept away
________Along with all the promises they had to keep;
____________For all that has been lost,
________________I grieve
____________________And weep.



James A. Tweedie is a recently retired pastor living in Long Beach, Washington. He likes to walk on the beach with his wife. He has written and self-published four novels and a collection of short stories. He has several hundred unpublished poems tucked away in drawers.

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5 Responses

  1. Leonard Dabydeen

    Heart-rending and soul-touching emotional poem, James. Love the line …”Madness, like a mushroom cloud, erupts and people’s lives are wrecked.” TFS.

  2. C.B. Anderson

    Not bad at all, James, even if a bit bathetic. Of course, everything will be blamed on Donald Trump, because the Left is horrified by his many successes.

  3. Damian Robin

    Movingly expressed, James.
    Amazing how tragedies bring out our nobility. The yang never far from the yin and vice versa.

  4. Brenda Miller

    I love the meter. Powerful. Clear. Thank you. I encourage you to continue seeking publication.


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