Something tells me that they
closed their eyes to pray
more faith and fortitude
than fear of the bigots attitude
something tells me that they
called on Him
not to save them
just to please
tell their ancestors
that though it seemed too soon
they'd be meeting them there by
the next day's noon
Something tells me that they
weren't riddled with fear
as their bodies fell
from the bullets
relentlessly being showered
upon their slender frames
Something tells me that they
were more concerned with God
and not us - remembering their names
didn't intend to be martyrs for a cause
never thought of or took pause
to imagine what this that happened to them
would do to the hearts and minds
of other men and women
Something tells me that they
simply wanted peace
the violence to cease
for them and their families
at the very least
Something tells me that they
had no idea that their lives would
touch a nation as it does to this day
and when it's my turn
I hope that they are among those
to meet me at the gates
so I can thank them for allowing me
a vehicle to try with my life
to rid us one poem at a time
of hate.