The sorrow continued.
It was a deep sorrow, a wide sorrow, a thick sorrow;
It was a barrier, isolation, the bars of a jail with no windows or doors;
It was a sorrow to break the hearts of all sorrows before it.
It came in teaspoons, in gallons, in oceans that froze hearts like ice.
It stole the fun and marred the excitement and tore apart the happiness like dogs attacking a hunk of meat.
It shrank people’s souls like shirt passed through the dryer too many times,
And it paralyzed their feelings until they were nearly numb from the cold, endless sorrow.
The people were all sorrow.
They hunched like trees against the wind in the cracked concrete streets,
Embracing the un-embraceable emptiness within them.
None of the people cried,
None of the people cracked;
There was nothing left to crack.
The people were nothing but shattered fragments of what people should be,
Saturated with the endless, endless sorrow.