Screenshot of a poem titled “The Last Happy Day,” posted on July 8, 2025, at 12:29 AM. The poem reads: “Do you know when it’s the last one? Kindergarteners shot in the face. We mourn. We heal. Nothing changes. Familiar faces frozen in my mind— Buried in ice, they disappear. We mourn. We heal. Nothing changes. A concentration camp in the Everglades. A concentration camp in the Everglades. A concentration camp in the Everglades.”
Continuation of a poem with the following lines: “Big and beautiful grotesque gashes Leave healthcare to bleed out on the floor. We mourn. We heal. Nothing changes. One hundred dead and washed away. Little girls. They disappeared. We mourn. We heal. Nothing changes. Nothing changes. Nothing changes. Nothing changes. We mourn but heal less.”
Final image in a poem sequence. It reads: “Nothing changes. Nothing changes. Nothing changes. One day we just mourn.”
I’m not a writer of poetry. I’m definitely not a poster of poetry. I just couldn’t sleep because this thought was screaming at me. Hope you’re faring better. #America2025 #MassGrief
#ScreamingIntoTheVoid
