I feel the pain the world has brought to us
Astoundingly not numb am I to this silent torture
Not yet, or not so nimble in joining the class
Blissfully ignorant of the subtle overture
Wishful thinking as introspect and regret
A burnt child, should have perhaps been a little circumspect
Leave it not to destiny and not a tinge of fret
But a plethora of remorse for a crime I indeed did abet
