Open cavity in my chest

Heart thumping wildly in my open palm

Blood splattered on the pavement
                               and my luggage

As I stand at the bus stop

And wait for a ride to the train

she crawls slowly through the mist
in the forest of demise
where the dark paths turn and twist
hidden from the open skies

where secret screams exist
going there would be unwise
the lips of pain are gently kissed
as another victim cries

if you find yourself in her midst
never look into her eyes
pretend she doesn't exist
don't be the next who dies

This is an echo
A poem
That I have written
A thousand times

This is a rainstorm
Of humanity
A shower of grace
With thundering compassion

This is a sunny day
Where people learn
Not to hate
Forget the warring ways
And say
We will be ok

This is a love story
Not in a book
But written in a look
In one daily act
And then another

This is humanity
A spark you see
Of what I want to believe
That you and me
And everyone we see
Can be kinder
Wiser
Not prone to the hate speech
Of rich political hucksters
Not working the will
Of loudmouth proselytizers
Picking up new text books
Not old dogmas

This is the hopeful promise
That I tender in this poem
We can be better