Innocence Lost
We used to think that we were safe;
Nestled deep within the valley;
No harm will ever come to us;
No pain, no shame, no heartbreak;
But now that has all changed;
In the early hours of morning;
O God, help us!
Our innocence has been taken away;
Anger, shock and despair hang heavy;
Like thick, rain-laden clouds;
Heaven cries as the wind howls;
Water and blood mingled together;
In the tears of a grieving town;
Spilling into the mighty Susquehanna;
The vultures come around to eat the scraps;
Sensationalizing unspeakable tragedy;
This cannot happen here;
Are we not the parlor city?
The carousel capital of the world;
A town full of antiques and artisans;
Where the young reach for their dreams;
And where the old fondly and quietly reminisce;
Why then, has this evil come to us?
We collectively shake our heads;
And try to make sense out of the senseless;
As we grapple with the harsh reality;
That we will never be the same again
Nestled deep within the valley;
No harm will ever come to us;
No pain, no shame, no heartbreak;
But now that has all changed;
In the early hours of morning;
O God, help us!
Our innocence has been taken away;
Anger, shock and despair hang heavy;
Like thick, rain-laden clouds;
Heaven cries as the wind howls;
Water and blood mingled together;
In the tears of a grieving town;
Spilling into the mighty Susquehanna;
The vultures come around to eat the scraps;
Sensationalizing unspeakable tragedy;
This cannot happen here;
Are we not the parlor city?
The carousel capital of the world;
A town full of antiques and artisans;
Where the young reach for their dreams;
And where the old fondly and quietly reminisce;
Why then, has this evil come to us?
We collectively shake our heads;
And try to make sense out of the senseless;
As we grapple with the harsh reality;
That we will never be the same again
Published by Lisa R. Strong
I was born and raised in Binghamton NY. I have been writing short stories since I was eight years old, and poetry since I was a teenager. I also write prayers, meditations, and opinion articles. My dre... View profile
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14 Comments
Post a CommentBeautifully and powerfully written!
Hope this event does not stop you from being the talented creative person that you are.
Hey this is good! Where have you gone? I would enjoy reading more of your work. Hope all is fine.
Nicely Done.
This feels appropriate today, as little Naveah Buchanen's body has been likely found, dashing hopes she would return home alive....So very sad. I truly hate the human animal sometimes. Thank you for sharing this.
Poem is very expressive and paints a picture that strikes at the heart of problems that we face in all kinds of communities.
very powerful poem didi, very well written.
We live in a time when people have no hope, because they're being told there's no God and anything goes.
As it turns out, I knew the killer. He worked in the same vacuum cleaner factory that I did last summer. He was very quiet, he worked very hard, he spoke very broken English, and everyone just called him "Wong". He never seemed to be the type of person who would hurt anyone...I am just shocked and angry that he would do this horrible thing. Thanks everyone for your comments.
very strong poem!