My Turn

MY TURN It was so tragic, I laughed out loud Not because I am cold or insensitive But my emotions just got scrambled An unconscious response or reflex But it was an inappropriate outburst In those regrettable circumstances When sadness should really prevail And weeping masses tear their hair Shuffling slowly past that awful sight Each with their personal suffering Laden heavy upon sloped shoulders But to me, this had yet another side At last, perhaps even a chance for joy No longer that dead hand of control Nor a damp blanket choking freedom Now finally it was my turn. My turn.