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Mar 2015
There is nothing to be done, nothing anyone can say
that will salve old Pedro’s heartache and take his grief away.
Three generations of his girls died in the tragic crash.
Their tickets all read “Dusseldorf” but they all died in France.
The old man sits dejected with his head hid in his hands.
A senseless act has claimed their lives, this much he understands.
A church bell tolls the call to prayer in Barcelona Spain.
They pray for all the victims of a pilot gone insane.
He forms their names upon his lips. It is a soundless cry.
His loved ones fell to earth they say out of a clear blue sky.
Three generations of one family all named Emma, died in the German-wings crash.
John F McCullagh
Written by
John F McCullagh  63/M/NY
(63/M/NY)   
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