Have we forgotten the boiling rage?
The miserable aches and sobs
and the molten tears of fury?

I spent this February the 14th smiling,
love in my eyes,
and warm hand in mine.
It felt selfish,
that I had the privilege to forget
and to stand tall
when so many families had their heads bowed
and bore bullet wounds in their heart.

We as a nation have forgotten
the red blood shed
on a celebrating love,
but forgot
that it was the anniversary of
families shattered
and a saint
beaten.