When does the suffering stop?

Writing #2

Time flies.
Ah, my favorite idiom. And quite accurate considering it seems like only yesterday I was sun worshiping on a beach in Spain.

Today is a different story.
I’m knee deep in paper–all the way from toilet paper destined to be stocked, to receipts that date as far back as the Bush administration.

You’d think it would be easier to toss everything in a Hefty bag and be done with it (something I seriously considered when the pile grew so much, I thought I’d have to name it).

But I’m glad I didn’t. If I had, I would not have come across a little folder titled, “The Son’s Poetry.” Not very eloquent on the outside, I agree, yet what lay inside brought tears to my eyes.

Though truth be told, I think most mothers will agree there’s not much a child can do, create, or perform that won’t bring us to tears. But I digress.

On this occasion, I chanced upon a series of poems written by the Son for one of his high school English classes. One of them, not only left me bawling, but also perfectly captured my sadness after the recent tragedy in Paris.

This piece raises the rhetorical question of when does it end?
When does the slaying of innocent lives stop? When can we stop blaming the thirst for power for our suffering? When do mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, husbands, wives, and children stop grieving for the loss of a loved one who has died at the hands of murderers?

I’m afraid that like most rhetorical questions, these do not have a definitive reply.

We will continue to seek answers until we realize world peace can never be achieved while there are those willing to kill to obtain power.

Yet in spite of this gloomy outlook, the idealist in me believes there is strength in unity; that together, we have what it takes to spread love. We can start in our homes, with our spouses, our children, our neighbors, our colleagues.

Kindness, respect, and compassion will reign, but only if they are present in our lives.

That said, I want to share the Son’s poem with you. May it incite you to reflect, not only on the recent tragedies, but also on why devastating circumstances such as these are still a reality.

The tragic loss of it all

We sit on the couch my mother and I
Enveloped by warmth we deeply sigh
The TV blaring we both scream out why
The pain, the torment, just makes us cry

Out in the Congo, people are dying
killed by the rebels it’s not a lie
Women and children everyone dying
The pain, the torment, just makes us cry

And in another corner of the planet
A father and neighbor senselessly die
A ten year old boy shamelessly planned it
The pain, the torment, just makes us cry

The waves of terror rise but never fall
The killing the torture at a mighty high
They fight for their lives, the old and the small
The pain, the torment, just makes us cry

And much as they try to put up a fight
The battle will never result in a tie
Victims keep dying night after night
The pain, the torment just makes us cry

Pastors and peacekeepers try to advise
Preach and bring peace as bullets fly by
Deep seeded faith is our only device
The pain, the torment just makes us cry

XOXO,

Note: The Son has allowed me to publish this piece and it has not been modified in any way. It is just as I found it.

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8 thoughts on “When does the suffering stop?

  1. I have missed you. This was amazing, not just the talent of the poetry but the depth of his feelings to be able to voice his heart. You have an incredible son there, Miss B. I think more than anything we have to make sure we pray protection over ourselves and loved ones, then spread that out to our neighbors, and outwardly more and more. And, as you said, BE the kindness and spread the love. Excellent post.

  2. Bella!! See, I found you all by myself!
    The Son’s poem is haunting and probably should be set to music. Isn’t it wonderful, having such a sensitive, caring, and talented offspring?!
    So many things divide us all — one would think tragedy, at least, would unite us. Prayers for the victims, prayers for our suffering world.

  3. What insight. What compassion! If all peoples were taught as your son has so obviously been taught, we wouldn’t have a problem in this world!
    Thank you for sharing this amazing poem!

  4. such a movimg poem, particularly lovely that it was write by a young boy and it’s about a feeling that all we share. I think that sharing our feelings and stay being kind is the best we can do now!
    besos tristes

  5. Thanks for sharing – we need to know, more than ever I think, that there are like minded souls out there. Unlike the politicians, and the protagonists, we aren’t given to shouting or elbowing our way into the discourse. Perhaps we should be. Hmmm…note to self…

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