Mourning Commute

Tracks turning into plots for the dead. Trains crashing into lost souls. Commuters witness front page terror before the ink has dried on the morning press. 

I pray for the family who can’t turn off their pain and sorrow. For the boy, two years ahead of my son, walking down the same high school hallways, who only yesterday was alive and maybe would have been someone the world needed. I’m sorry you didn’t know. 

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