I submitted this poem to the Manchester Evening News earlier this month.  Sadly, it seems that this type of tragedy is starting to become more commonplace.



Snuffed out.

Lives snuffed out and changed forever.

One moment young people talking, listening, laughing, sharing

and the next, blood and horror everywhere.

Insanity had come to this quiet place

and their lives would never be the same.


Where there was once conversation in their homes,

there is now silence.

Where there was once warmth and love,

there is now emptiness.

The jacket hanging in the closet and the shoes on the floor,

will not be worn again.


They were alive and full of life,

loved by many they knew.

Having given much of themselves,

they had touched the lives of others.


What was lost was not just life and breath,

but their dreams also.

Of love and marriage, smiling babies, the warmth of family,

Of meaningful careers and things to be accomplished,

blasted by a terrible bomb.


They will be remembered by many now,

living on in bittersweet memories;

both the fond thoughts and pain of loss,

co-mingle in sadness and heartache.


Their lives continue to be important;

reminders, symbols of work to be done.

To strive for a world of love and peace,

where evil has lost its sway.