Mourning Poem by LeeAnn Azzopardi

The patter of rain in early spring
The song of birds being sung
I'd rather hear then about shootings
Or many people in sorrow
For their loved ones killed
A child's laughter
Or an old friend's voice
Singing a drunken ballad
With a gusto no one has seen before
The silence of night
With a hopeful moon
And a shooting star
Watching
Wishing the night
Would never end
These I pray for every night
But it seems the is weakened
With hate
And only love could pull us through
As we wait for a miracle
Our continue to pour out the chalice