Hey, midnight, where'd you find that picture?
~D-Draw
Found it following links from whatreallyhappened.com
Wrote this a minute ago, btw:
"The Misbegotten"
They have faces in the windows of our lives.
They peer out,
lost to all but themselves.
Their pain is a reflection of our apathy.
Black diamonds spill from their tortured glances,
and the winds hush in moments of silence for those departed.
Like a magic-marker on a lotto ticket,
we all calculate the odds.
Each one of us has a one spark,
one finite flame in an eternally dark and cold cosmos.
The galaxy spins, despite our bursting veins.
It cannot, and will not, wait for any of us.
But I can.
In a poem, I can take a snapshot, of those lost to the day.
The day will come again, and another batch will become a tragedy.
They are the misbegotten,
and they are staring you and myself down,
through the pages of time,
a book with no chapters,
no publication date,
and no editor.
Typos are beautiful.
- Written for the victims at Virginia Tech