Tears For Oklahoma City Poem by Roger A. Rose

April 19,1995


At the morning table I view my world
through my back-yard window.
The world of others comes to me
through a wondrous animated screen,
as I sit and drink my coffee.

Lives torn asunder by murderous hands,
shown by the small, square box.
Crying, bleeding dying people.
Through my window, I watch the birds,
as I sit and drink my coffee.

Those demons from hell destroyed
a building of steel and stone and glass.
Lives of innocents snuffed out, bodies
crushed and torn from a blast. I watch,
as I sit and drink my coffee.

The birds stop their singing,
or so it seems, and the light from
the big window dims. The screen gets
brighter as my attention grows tighter.
I watch, and sip my coffee.

Tears roll down my grizzled cheeks
and my eyes begin to burn
as the mother cries for her babies.
The monster killed the children.
I watch, and cold grows the coffee.

Tears foll down my grizzled cheeks
and I cry out loud with no one to hear.
I cry for the children and the others,
innocent victims of twisted minds.
Tears fall into forgotten coffee.