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Updated on December 22, 2009




Tiny child building a sand castle
weaving the magic of fantasy
in the crystal grains
caught up like a moat
in the eye of a giant
and battered into a fence
where she was impaled
one tiny life snuffed amidst 150,000
and many passed her tiny corpse that day
knowing she was beyond help
she hung as a testament to the horror
of nature uprooting lives
with titanic force
sweeping thousands of souls
into a mass exodus
and what remains mere driftwood
that would drift for days
until lined up on streets they litter the walkways
arms bent in rigor mortise postures
that demonstrate their vain attempts to swim
in a whirlpool vortex of death that would not yield
escape in any form except statistics
all nationalities washed into eternity
no discrimination here just nations disassembled
in split seconds at ten a.m.
so many tiny children's last play day
so many parents left childless
lovers caught in mid stroke
separated and divorced from love by death
sunbathers drenched in the oils of land mass disrupted
fishermen tossed on toy boats into swirling seas
toothpick buildings picking the teeth of the rocks clean
of bits of flesh and bone
some washed away never to return
mass graves will cradle the young
mixed with the strangers that
shared their last breaths
empty chairs will haunt many homes
and the seas will no longer be as relaxing for all
who saw the horrid bite that they can take
from the flesh of humanity dancing along it's shores
Godspeed to all who perished
there is a dry and pain free promised land awaiting
for those who were washed in the blood
of their brothers and sisters
they will be cleansed and healed and rejoined
on the shores of paradise where fate sets all
who cross its path and meet it's quotas
even on sunny beach days where a tiny child
builds dreams in the sand as the waters recede outward
and then stamp on her masterpiece with their twenty feet falling
im a merciless cascade of sorrows.



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