It's early morn
and families are still asleep.
Suddenly, the ground quakes
and buildings begin to shake.
Two minutes of pure panic,
parents and children are frantic
trying to reach for each other;
some tightly embraced
when their lives were erased.
Towns, neighbourhoods in ruin,
gaspipes explode ,fires spread
hearts full of dread,
many lives hanging by a thread.
Folks in shock dig with
bare hands in the hope
to find a loved one still alive.
Tiny hands and feet poke
out from the rubble, dust and smoke
Crushed heads and chests
may God grant them peace and eternal rest.
A father sheds bitter tears
As he cradles his dead son
Another exhausted cheers
his child trapped is found
her tiny heart still pounds.
An uncle weeps,
desparate, help he seeks.
He received a tweet
from a cousin buried alive
with his 4 kids
he prays they will survive.
Families crippled.
Children orphaned with out roots.
For these poor lost, lonely soul
who will root ?
Who'll give the necessary attention,
help them build a strong foundation?
Who'll point them in the right direction?
Provide them with protection
and prepare them for life's trials and tribulations ?
I fear no one will give a hoot.
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