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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield


There is something I can’t speak of,
or put on a table, and watch it
burn through the wood.
Tell someone, this is a tragedy.
This is what it looks like.
Hiding from denial.
A mockery.
I am helpless.
My prayers are helpless.
My heart can’t hide.

I look at the face of Providence
and shrug my shoulders.
I put my face on the earth
and breathe the dust.
In time it will take us back.
This is what tragedy looks like.
What happened should never have
What is a world that creates tragedy,
and inscribes headstones,
here lies the meaningless.

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