This grief too large, beyond the bounds of reason,
it stops the heart, for parents left bereft,
for children lost before their fairest season;
it stops the heart and steals the taken breath.
I did not know a one � not name or face;
they lived a thousand weary miles away,
but with my country joined in frenzied space,
I fight back tears and rage against this day.
Earthquake, tornado, accident and fire,
or act of God, disease and pestilence;
each bitterly unfair, but here's the pyre
where burns the darkest fear, the precipice...
The fear that leaves us battered, broken, bent:
This tragedy, this one, we could prevent.
This is pretty raw, but that's okay. So am I.