• Purpose

For the Little Ones ...



When a baby is killed,

Hope is slaughtered.

It meets a bloody end,

Soaking into the seat of a car,

The concrete swallowing it up

And spitting it in the face of the family.


It is unnatural.

The earth revolts.

The weather becomes strange

And out of season

As if to reject the Devil's playground

The viral violence of men has transformed it into.


When a child is slain

The future is strangled

The community in a choke hold

Trying to understand the disappearance

Of possibility, of love, of new family

Of contributor, of potential...


The parents review a funeral program

Instead of a grade card.

The siblings stare at a casket

Instead of a go kart.

The classmates stare at an empty seat

Instead of a playmate


When innocence is crucified.

Grace is called into question

Who did this lamb save?

The prayer is strange, grieved.

The vision is tainted, dreams and

Aspirations mangled, forever changed.


When a little one's life is extinguished from wild fire.

The earth is singed, blackened, dark. The void is wide.

A small but important piece of the world is stolen.

There are no explanations, no words, no vengeance,

That can cure the heart or redeem the value

Of an irreplaceable light.


~ The saddest thing that I have ever witnessed is the funeral of a child whose life was taken by senseless violence. Today, that happened. This was an unnecessary event, something that could have been prevented. The parents should not know this pain. The city should not know this boy's name ... At least not this way.
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