4 a.m. (Raised Hands! DON'T SHOOT!)

News hits hard
In the middle of the night.

This silence

Can’t cushion the blow.

Rocks and bullets fly,

Flames reach high.

Dark lives feel the fury,

This story isn’t mine.

Pain strikes deep

In the middle of the night

When blameless eyes

are terrorized.

Truth and madness hover,

Lives in disarray.

Too late to call the doctor,

Hope has passed away.

Time stops moving

In the middle of the night

Men, dead asleep or

Dead on the street.

Daylight moves in.

News moves fast.

Onto the next page,
This is the past.