Monday, April 15, 2013
We woke this morning to news of the terrible events at the Boston Marathon. This poem came to mind.
Man was made to mourn: A Dirge
Many and sharp the num'rous ills
Inwoven with our frame!
More pointed still we make ourselves
Regret, remorse, and shame!
And man, whose heav'n-erected face
The smiles of love adorn, -
Man's inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn!
I'm lost for words of my own to express my horror and sympathy to those affected directly and indirectly. Kia Kaha America.