March 19, 2011
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Some aspects of life cannot be explained.
Innocent people lose their lives,
While wicked criminals roam free.
Unimportant fixations haunt the mind,
While meaningful memories drift away.
Those at the right place at the right time,
Are also at the wrong place at the wrong one.
There once was a man who did nothing wrong.
In fact, he was a saint.
He was kind to everyone he ever met,
Even when they cursed his existence.
He never raised his voice at a single soul.
He went to work to make money for his family,
And never spent a cent on himself.
He kissed the rosy cheeks of his daughter every night,
And confessed his love to his beloved wife at every possible moment.
He took his sick mother into his home,
And cared for her until she felt the illusion of health.
He gave money to the poor and even to the rich.
He threw fish back into the pond,
And carried invading spiders back outside, unharmed.
He was old-fashioned in his beliefs, and modern in his thinking.
He honored every opinion and rule, and felt that silence
Could be the brightest of gold at times.
He stitched bleeding wounds, and mended broken hearts.
On his way home from work on his daughter’s birthday,
He picked up a toy of which she always dreamt.
The stuffed purple dragonfly sparkled
And shined even when light became invisible.
It was the same as his daughter.
She was always the strongest light on the darkest of nights.
Walking back to his car, a condemned man leaped
Out of a store nearby, looking for somewhere to hide.
As if in slow motion, he pulled something black and deadly
From his pocket, aiming at the head of a righteous man.
Driving away, leaving the scene with the car
Never to deliver happiness to a young girl on her birthday.
The dying man, limp on the sidewalk could not come to think of any
Good deeds he had performed in his angelic lifetime.
All he could think of were the things he had not done.
All he could think of was the sparkling purple dragonfly
That would never make his daughter smile.

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