The same breath that fills their lungs fills your lungs.
Their hearts beat as does your own.
Their skin feels the air when it’s still and when it blows as does your skin.
Our blood bleeds red.
Our minds think.
Our hearts feel.
Our souls dream.
To gaze from up above at the madness,
The destruction and question why.
The innocent have no say.
To spill their blood is
Pointless.
At the end,
When choices have been weighed,
Will there be happiness?
Oh the madness.
SONYA A WATSON 