People Were Sacred Once Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

People are sacred, living in holy moments easily.
Forgiving nature's, helping and compassionate,
living lives, fortunate to be alive.
Pressuring selves with stress, working long hours,
ripping and tearing apart interior harmony.
All done for inane reasons, splitting our universes
within like atoms of an atomic bomb.
Sometimes exploding and doing things we'd ordinarily
never have done.
Children and spouses killing and shooting one another
because they feel like it.
Home invasions being done, harming people and stealing
what they worked so hard to get.
Material items standing in the way of love, home and
family, ruining lives that once were spiritually full.