He dreamed of a love, that remained unfulfilled,
of the riches that he never earned,
but a family that loved him still.
He dreamed of a life that was cut short,
by the flames and shrapnel that took his limbs apart.
He was a father, a friend, a husband, a son
a man with a heart, a decent human.
He was a victim of vengeance, of hatred and ignorance
a lifeless statistic lost in the realms of indifference.
He had a name, which we may never know
memories and moments which won’t be shared.
He lived a life of which we were unaware,
now his death puts us in fear and in despair.
We will rant of him and the dead through our online avatars,
as we remain helpless as prisoners of war.
Living in fear of a painful death,
we will light a candle or two as a mark of respect.
Days will pass, and as months go by,
he will remain just a prime-time topic, a T.V dinner debate.
We will have moved on as we have our lives to live,
we will bitch, we will moan while surrendering to our fate.
There is not much we ask, and there is not much we want,
we are easy to please, we too are human after all.
We may not live like Kings, yet we don’t yearn for any pity,
all we ask for is a death with some dignity.