As the world around me sleeps
I spend the darkest hours
Pouring over Facebook pages
Of the three girls who died
And the three who survived
But will be scarred
In every way imaginable
For life
I’m studying photos, messages
Seeking clues about why
Why these kids and not mine
Crime-riddled neighborhoods?
Drug and alcohol addictions?
Self-centered, neglectful parents?
No
The faces on my monitor
Are children like my children
Racing down soccer fields
Passing the ball to my kids
Wearing prom dresses and tuxes
Posing next to my kids
Laughing in the lunchroom
Sitting across from my kids
On the sidelines in our fold-out chairs
Cheering for the players
We all sit, their parents and me
You cannot tell us apart
I spent the night
Looking for differences
Seeking assurance, promises
This can’t happen to us
Because we’re different
Except we’re not
We are them
They are us
Tomorrow I will struggle to choose
My son’s senior pictures
While they are forced to select
Their little girls’ coffins
We are them
They are us
“There, but for the grace of God….”
