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Tim Labbe


Sandyhook Angels Prayer


They pressed
their hands together,
one, against the other
and prayed.

26 frail souls.

Eyelids closed.
Hope hoped
the Moon had hoped
Innocence, along
with it's
laughter, had hoped.

They pressed
their hands together,
one, against the other
and prayed.

26 frail souls.

All the seasons
and their
star-filled heavens
had hoped.

Hope hoped.

Both, possibilities
and potential
had hoped.

Triumph had hoped.

The rose and every
one of it's thorns had
hoped.

Even
anguish
and despair
had hoped.

They pressed
their hands together,
one, against the other
and prayed.

26 frail souls.

Eyelids closed.


by
Tim Labbe

Submitted: Thursday, April 25, 2013
Edited: Saturday, August 09, 2014

Topic of this poem: mourn


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