The Life and Death of Richard L. Hadowinsky

And as we plummet to the earth,
I will not be the first, by any means
To laugh with mirth
At the screaming cries of children trapped
In tiny lives, as they spiral
Along with me towards our unalterable
Destiny. For, you see, I find this funny
That they, not I, are given prayers;
Yet they, not I, know the sorrows of this world
Not at all, in any fashion.

Many before have come and gone,
Many again will travel this path
Of life to death without a plan,
And to them I must turn my soul
And mock and cry and scream in anger;
They are not the people whom I wish upon this earth,
Nay, it is only they who are bound by birth
To witness that which witnessed I once,
The loss of life and loss of such
Ambitions, as prove men of their worth.

And worthy are they for what?
To reap and sow the souls of others,
To feast upon the sorrows of the damned?
These questions plague me,
They are a pain unvanquished in my heart,
Which twists and turns and jumps in fear
At every rock overturned in haste,
And every child born to waste.
And so I must laugh and smile, grin
Perhaps and giggle, as they, and them
See this as a tragedy of children and not of men.