Charging like a fierce Nor’easter
Bounding off costal Atlantic shores,
Tearing inland to wreak its worst,
Leaving a trail of sorrow behind.
Casting a net over masses of innocents,
Pleading no mercy, knowing no shame.
Locating targets with pinpoint precision.
Laughing on leaving, pompous and full.
Who will stand up for the tear-stained victim
After the tirade subsides into dust?
Who will be witness against the atrocities?
Who will find backbone to cry out, ‘enough’?
Where is justice? Who will be hero?
Why is action froth with delay?
Why can’t we shake off this propensity to
Simply look the other way?
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