i have no words today to write or speak—
they have killed another martyr, one more
unwanting soldier for the cause, whose weak
and gentle form, a soul we would restore,
alone and suffering treated like a freak,
they hung upon a cross; just so before
we all decry the shame, answers we seek.
tell me, tell me, were his limbs so sore,
as in my mind they were? a sight so bleak,
my body cannot bear to think of more.
i find it very hard to turn the cheek
as i was told by one that i adore.
oh give me peace and gentle calm tonight,
i need the strength to fight for what is right.
—in memoriam, Matthew Shepard, 1976–1998
poems i have written:
