April 19,1995 <br /> <br /> <br />At the morning table I view my world <br />through my back-yard window. <br />The world of others comes to me <br />through a wondrous animated screen, <br />as I sit and drink my coffee. <br /> <br />Lives torn asunder by murderous hands, <br />shown by the small, square box. <br />Crying, bleeding dying people. <br />Through my window, I watch the birds, <br />as I sit and drink my coffee. <br /> <br />Those demons from hell destroyed <br />a building of steel and stone and glass. <br />Lives of innocents snuffed out, bodies <br />crushed and torn from a blast. I watch, <br />as I sit and drink my coffee. <br /> <br />The birds stop their singing, <br />or so it seems, and the light from <br />the big window dims. The screen gets <br />brighter as my attention grows tighter. <br />I watch, and sip my coffee. <br /> <br />Tears roll down my grizzled cheeks <br />and my eyes begin to burn <br />as the mother cries for her babies. <br />The monster killed the children. <br />I watch, and cold grows the coffee. <br /> <br />Tears foll down my grizzled cheeks <br />and I cry out loud with no one to hear. <br />I cry for the children and the others, <br />innocent victims of twisted minds. <br />Tears fall into forgotten coffee.<br /><br />Roger A. Rose<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tears-for-oklahoma-city/
