So Much To So Few
Riding back in this cold dark vehicle I, numb, ponder the meaning of life.
This man who meant so much to so few.
Here, he doesn't even warrant a half mast flag. We pass a post office and angered, I notice yet another American flag flying high against the whipping wind. He wasn't president or a government official so no one has time for him now. Already forgotten on the "drive at 5" I wonder if he'll even make the "News at 11."
They say he "gave his life in the line of duty" but what's the significance of that? Will he be remembered? Will he be talked about round the water cooler? Not outside of us, he won't. In a few weeks, months, he won't even be acknowledged for the great man he was. He'll hang in the air, another unspoken piece of Las Vegas history…but no more.
This man who meant so much to so few.
Twenty-one bullets shot into the air and the gun crack of finality, a folded flag and a few roses are all that's left of him. He wasn't a world leader but he led our way. He wasn't a pompous official but the words he did speak rang true. "Everybody hurts," plays softly on the driver's radio as a single tear rolls down my cheek.
To the five of us he was a true leader, an official, above all a friend…to us he was a great man and he's gone now. To the countless victims who couldn't speak and would've been another voice lost in the shuffle…for them we cry thank you to the man who spoke for them. To the outside world he's another body in the ground, food for the worms. Another cold stone and a pile of dirt, but to us ..
Clouds roll in now as the sun begins to fade. Another sunset, the world continues to rotate but to us the chosen, the victims, the mourners, the hopeful mass...
This man who meant so much to so few…lives on.