At Your Door
When it happens to someone else’s child
Someone else’s mother or father
It remains a thought without true feeling
An inconvenience a minor bother
But when it closes in to circle you
When it touches those you know and love
Then it cracks your very core
It gets real when it’s at your door
It stuns when it comes in naked numbers
You fill with rage as it strikes you dumb
The sheer volume knocks you to the floor
But it gets real when it’s at your door
It is one thing when death has a number
It’s another when it has a face
The heart demands: what is it for?
It gets real when it’s at your door
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