I’m breaking my pattern for a poem…

cheerful elderly man listening to music in headphones

I found this poem from two years ago, while searching for something else today…


There is no joy in lost lives, loves, or freedom.

Hate for the alien among us is hardly wisdom.

Fallen towers leave each of us coated in ashes and dust.

I grieve for our dead, and mourn our misplaced trust.

The years drag on, but justice is denied.

Vengeance can never exact enough blood for those who died.

I will sing a new song that crusades might cease.

One of hope, and home, and joy, and peace.

Not some idyllic ode to frightened doves,

But a strong and able defense of our loves.

Sing along with me if your heart is moved.

Sing a song of tomorrow, of promises proved.

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