I don’t usually write poetry and I’m not all that good at it, but I think it’s the least offensive and most concise way for me to express my feelings right now.
Say it however you please.
Three innocent, human lives lost.
Somebody’s son/friend/brother died last week.
You can’t deny them their feelings.
Mothers and Fathers.
Sisters and Brothers.
They’ll never see him alive again.
They all numb your mind to the pain.
There’s nothing wrong with being human.
Dedicated to the Memories of
Gilad Shaar, 16; Naftali Frankel, 16; Eyal Yifrach, 19.
Just three teens trying to get home to their families.