There it is,
down the darkened alleyway,
a shrine to the dead.
Graffiti, drawings, symbols, images,
all state the obvious,
violence pays nothing but pain.
The streets of heartache lead here.
Dreamless paths abruptly halt
at this morbid symbol.
It stands in the darkness waiting
for another name to be etched
on its rough, porous surface.
When will the murderous carnage
end on the abandoned streets.
A wall, red brick, wide as forever
exalted by the names of dead children,
who died for a causeless war.
No one can win this unholy attack on
the youth of the streets.
Now it is time to tear the wall down,
our barrier, our homage to carnage.
Compassionately give of ourselves
so the tears can dry,
and the green grass can grow,
through the cracks of broken dreams.
Timothy Michael DiVito c 1991
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