A Hundred Thousand

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: UKRAINE

A Hundred Thousand

 

A hundred thousand people die

We shake our heads and heave a sigh

A hundred thousand people dead

We turn it off and go to bed

 

A hundred thousand have no names

Our hearts are numb; we have no shame

A hundred thousand far away

A hundred thousand yesterday

A hundred thousand isn’t real

We have no tears, we do not feel

Another time, another place

A hundred thousand has no face

Has no mourners, leaves no trace

 

But a neighbor or a second cousin

Someone you once knew

A teller at your local bank

The singer with the two-tone shoes

A tender at the bar you drank

A teacher at the old school

A person with a name and face

Touches you in the very place

You live, you mourn, you grieve

 

You feel the death of one

As you will feel the deaths to come

But the death of thousands

Leaves you untouched and numb