It Tore the Pages (Poem)

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I was nineteen when I learned that murder doesn’t only happen to those we don’t know! At nineteen I learned That life had a way Of tearing The pages And ripping open Wounds. When innocent lives Are taken Without rhyme Or reason. At nineteen On a rainy February Morning I woke up to the realization That it wasn’t just some Scripted plot That violence Came into lives And people we knew Suddenly became Victims Of the unthinkable. The pages of lives Not completed Torn out A book half written Another Barely begun Ended before It’s time. Life has a way Of tearing out pages Way to soon And opening up Those wounds. © Michelle R Kidwell 8/03/2018 12:29 A.M P.S.T