While I remain silent, watching the news about the German airplane that crashed in the French alps taking the lives of highschoolers, two sopranos, some teachers... and regular citizens... 150 in all, my mind keeps wondering about those families waiting for their loved ones to come home.. and it never happens... and I travel back 40 years ago... a plane crashed in Central America , inside were a group of dancers from a group of Spanish immigrants living in Mexico... the dancers were teenagers, some were sisters, some were cousins, and 4 club directors that were traveling with them. They had a dancing schedule to recover funds to help earthquake survivors...they all died 900 yards from the shore. It was a fatality no different than today. My uncle was there and we have lived regretting that day, as I know those families will do. My prayers are with them and my poem to my father goes as I type this keys.
O Father There is a silence in your heart, there is a shadow in your sight
There is a hollow in our space, that can not be filled,
There is an anger in my words, there is a thunder in my tears.
There is a space that will never be filled, that will always remain empty
There is a man torn by tears, crashed by his pain, there is a brother gone.
My father is lying on the floor, he would have taken his place
As he was his best friend, as he was his right hand, as he was his mentor
There is a shadow in your eyes father because I know he lives inside your heart
When a plane crashes, when a building falls down, when a car ignites
a life stops in a second , multiple hearts are torn apart, lives are changed forever
expectations will never be met... and we all have to succeed the pain.
we will learn to live, our hands will never meet again
as your voice wont reach my ears... and still you will live in our hearts.
This is family.. and still I learned to love you uncle because of you father
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