More loss...
Of life
Somebody somewhere has lost
A father, a mother, a brother, a sister, a husband… a wife
On this Saturday morning
Somebody is weeping… somebody is mourning
‘News just in’… it probably is a media frenzy…
By now
But somewhere out there
Some people do not know where they’re friends be
Right now
Eleven dead… eleven nameless people gone
Unless it’s your loss, then somebody has a name
This is that ‘it’s someone else’s problem’ game
The news you hear… but it doesn’t really ‘hit home’
Unless it really does ‘hit home’
To me… like to you, right now these people are unknown
But they are still people… they were living, breathing people
Now gone
On a Saturday morning
Many are beginning a sad day… mourning
We can lay blame on the ferry services… the lack of precaution
And trust me, they deserve that blame… they really do
But to pin point one particular person to blame it on?... Really?... Who?
Right now… today
Let’s just take a moment to pray
For the injured and the gone
And when I say …I’m glad it isn’t a school day
And most school-going children are at home
I know I’m not alone.

This man stood in the dark* *(He stood in the light)
This man had no idea what to do with the light (He had made it through the night)
For so much time had gone by since dusk (He was free... a seed, ready to grow, that has shed its outer husk)
He had spent one too many hours in ‘fright’ (Not to be confused with being ‘about to flee’… he was ‘about to soar’, ready to take flight)
Too much time had gone by since he’d gotten lost in the night (And it all came naturally, everything just sort of… felt right)
He’d taken the same wrong path he swore he would avoid (He’d avoided a path that he knew so well, one that was… of all serenity, devoid)
That same mistake over and over again, he was frustrated… annoyed (Some would call it a ‘near miss’, he calls it a ‘near crash’… because he nearly crashed and missed, he was overjoyed)

**The previous man… a broken record, a repetitive mistake, an irritating stutter
Just for the record, the previous emotional clutter… seems much less appealing than the organized latter
And the obvious better option for me... for you
Is to work extra hard at being guy number two.