I hear America crying, the mournful sobs I hear,
Those of victims, each one grieving his or her lost innocence,
The officer writing his report as he contains his sorrow,
The paramedic repeating his practice as he has done a thousand times before,
The criminal fleeing the scene, the accomplice driving away,
The witness standing idly, the bystander who did nothing detailing recent events,
The mother’s tears, the father’s burning eyes,
The drying tears of the woman who worked an extra shift, or of the man who was

walking home too late hiding his pain,
Each crying to him or her and to none else
The good what belongs to the good—the evil, merciless, cruel, malevolent taking
whatever in their dark ways,
Gloating after successfully ruining the lives of others.