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Sarah Strack Jun 2016
Forty-nine flags furled,
Tears reflecting every hue,
On faces confusion swirled,
How could this loss be true?

Forty-nine families cry,
Looking for a reason in the pain,
Don't look where the bodies lie,
For how could they be slain?

Forty-nine sparks doused in water red,
With metal flying through the air,
Their last thoughts of dread,
But could the metal care?

Forty-nine lost to delusion,
Forty-nine lost to hate,
It still seems like an illusion,
Can we control our fate?

Forty-nine reasons not to become,
Like a homophobic man,
Who couldn't see the sum,
Of all the hearts that love and can,

Be better than that man.

— The End —