A simple matter is what it is called
No pain would be felt to correct the blame
Decisions to be made by those not capable
Lives turned upside down are never the same
Guilt and remorse dig deep in the soul
Right or wrong a moral dilemma for all
The thought of a future encumbered by shame
Misplaced ideals forgotten when wisdom does fall
A voice never to be heard or admired
Blond trusses on portraits will never show
Potential encased in an uncharted tomorrow
What could have beens we’ll never know
Too late salvation with the flip of a switch
God’s children cast adrift on clouds of gas
Reality strikes when the deed is finished
The memory of brutality will never pass
