History will record how lamentably we failed;

the indigestible truth that money can’t buy you

love, shelter, bandages, put bread upon

a non-existent table

without safe passage.

History will peel away the flesh

of all our collective anguish

the hand wringing, the tears

the howling at the moon,

focussing instead

on numbers, places, dates

the bare bones in rubble

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