Hands cold, eyes blank.
They stare ahead
The living carry them inside, eyes brimming with tears.
These were the children.
Mothers
Fathers
Sisters
Brothers
They didn't last the night of may 2nd ,1999.
Only young hearts ceased to beat that night
A twin lost his best friend, his laugh echoing in his ears.
Two left the world.
Leaving their son in darkness.
They were fighting for a world they never got to see.
The living shake with tears, unable to hold themselves up
They crumple to the ground.
Hands groping for the cold ones that had once been warm.
They are the ones suffering, not the dead.