About November 22nd,1963...
Watching forensic post-mortems of brain-spill......from his skull
My mind echoed back to that dark November, Friday.....in '63
Chaos...ruling an autumn knoll....grey imbruing a rich pink dress
Men in black suits, and smoked ray-bans......with magnums drawn
Won't ever be a November Autumn in Dallas, like the one in '63
I remember my Father saying, he'd have voted for him....in '64
Would have been the first time (he said) , that he broke party line
It be forty-eight years this twenty-second of November....My God
Makes me realize.....this scar will forever be scored thru' the Soul's
Of those like me, a child.....yet how we matured in year's that day
From the shocking news that as mortal life....we all shared as one
Without difference to colour, culture, lifestyle, politics.......or creed
Made me mealancholy.......wondering where God's world had gone
That our Heart's 'only' be bonded.........through self-fear and travesty
Like they did, on that Autumn noon in Texas......
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
Added by Poetry Lover
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