Springingtiger's Blog

Ordinary Deaths

Some years are good with joy in every breath
And some are not so happy, even sad.
This appears to be a year that may prove bad.
Twenty Sixteen may be the year of death;
At every News someone we love is gone,
Every day a new obituary
Upon the newspapers’ tear stained pages.
In my experience there is nary
A year of such tragedy in ages
And I notice every celebrity,
But how many do I not see?
Who shines a spotlight on the refugee,
For them where are our tears and our pity?
For slaughtered Palestinians, who weeps?
The names of civilians bombed, who keeps?
Who keeps the ordinary dead in mind?
Only we, the ones they have left behind.


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