So it was you
Who brought this heartache to our door
Who stole our only daughter and our joy,
Snatched her from us for a moment's pleasure
Then tossed her aside
Like a spent match.
All those days and hours that we waited
And hoped and prayed and pleaded,
Then watched aghast
While all the world looked on,
All that time it was you.
How can we ever comprehend
What you have done?
How can we ever erase
Your face from our memories?
Coming from the UK I think I know the news item that may have inspired this piece, and I am sure it is a good fit with the events. PS have you read Shelley's "A defence of Poetry"?
I found on the web, and it has lots of helpful stuff for wouldbe poets, at least it helps me to understand any gift/ ministry...Anne