Finish line

Terror is the same twenty second video
endlessly looped during media crazes.
Scenes of horror replayed countless times
shoved in front of our lost, mournful gazes.

We turn on the news to look at it all,
to gawk at our street - now turned mausoleum.
Horror once-removed, you can press pause and lean in;
an ancient observer in the blood-soaked Coliseum.

A cowboy holds a haunted man’s life,
the attractive brunette on the news corresponds.
Those there to support, now crawling for help,
once strangers now fused in unbreakable bonds.

Hatred explodes in unthinkable violence,
leaving voids we fill with a message and a wreath.
The world still struggles to make sense - to mourn
the loss of the boy still growing into his teeth.

Why does mankind crave these violent scenes?
Turn off the terror and follow your dreams.
Find hope (though impossible it may sometimes seem),
because even small fish can swim up the stream.