Poem for Newtown

When you put your foot to the ground
you never know what you've found
as you make your way down the trail
every mile, minute or inch feels like a nail in your soul
you take the pain, but you feel no gain as you hit your stride
just forget about your pride
there is not much time inside
into the place without a face
step aside and hold to be
for what we are, we can't quite see
we need to stop and hold the line
and don't tell me that you are fine
there is no rhyme this time
they're dead,
they're gone
and
I
am
sad.