Shame

We’re crying again.
Tears tracing on a nameless face
And people you cannot erase,
Watching you and crying.

This temple of faith.
Holy ground stained the red of youth
And beyond. This nightmare, this is truth,
Truth that you cannot deny.

A droplet of time,
Falling upon this puddle of life. Here
Ripples of destruction disappear.
Rubble, death, and our tears.

These are our tears.
These are our people, this, our home.
There’s only so far you can roam
Before you must look back.

Can you see us?
We are your children, your parents, there.
Your family weeping in despair
Of your blindness.

You cannot ignore us.
We permeate every moment of your life.
On our faces, hunger, death, strife.
These droplets on a puddle.

But simple droplets on a puddle.
How can you face our faces everyday?
How can find chutzpa to look away
From these tearful faces?

A hateful droplet.
Our faithful people sacrificed on holy ground, screaming, crying,
Innocent victims of an ungodly hate, dying.
And you ignore them.

And not just you.
A world of wordly interest.
A show of stone-cold bosoms test
The strength of empty justice.