The Latimes got this one right, “Gunman was one of Us.” For just a second, think of him as your brother, your neighbor, the kid everyone loved to pick on and then maybe you might see a little of you in him.
He may not have been an American citizen, but he grew up in the U.S. He was a product of our streets, our neighborhoods, our culture as best as anyone could be. He had parents that loved him, we all do and yet things happen, we change.
We reach out to a higher power, questioning, not knowing why those classmates were singled out. Not knowing why their parents are burying a child before themselves . . . And I don’t have to tell you that’s a parents worst nightmare. Today it’s been a full week since the shootings and the pain is still there and it will for quite a long time. Many will never mend, some will be permanently scarred.
And as a nation one morning, we woke up to tragedy not quite in the realms of a 9-11, though it hurt just the same. And we morn, just the same, we cry, just the same, and we go on, just the same.
Dreams are yours to Share
My Books: The World Outside My Window, AuthorHouse, 2004
Soon to come, Sleepless Nights
Links: Dreams Are Yours To Share
Warriors and Wars
Dan Hanosh poemhunter.com
Dan’s Room 2 Write
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