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whence somber church bells peal n pews
packed tight to pay homage to Graham Dixon while each mourner doth rues
in due time exits the sepulchral chamber in ones or twos.
an untimely death
tis like a whip that stings naked flesh
unimaginable by this papa
of two lovely teenage daughters fresh
into throes of young adulthood,
where world (wide web) at fingertips and skein of community. family
and illustrious lower merion
principled staff wrought mental health network
that purportedly serves as a mesh...
how and/or why (this father doth ask himself)
did one life slip thru this intricate weave
where tell tale signs of personal turmoil
usually writ larger than any pet peeve
roils inside (attested by mailer daemons) and doth leave
family, friends and strangers dumbstruck
and stunned into sorrow per priceless youth did heave
himself against premature years of his mortality,
whereby even i (a passerby per cyberspace) grieve
the permanent loss of promises untold -
thus tis death impossible to believe?
no words can salve this pain
yet, a vicarious impact felt like daggers
into my heart they reign
while whisking soul of loved
indelibly etched against logic, this tragedy doth stain
thee entire being of me,
an anonymous transient virtual wayfarer
before the sands of time for mein kempf will wane.
at how to console even a milligram
what can this soul offer - when such a brutal slam
bangs against the consciousness -
where psyche rent asunder -
with a wicked WHAM!
Copyright © matthew harris