Why, why, why…

This is from an old journal entry as valid today as on that other sad day.
Sad commentary that I have occasion to ask the same question time and again,  year after year. “We always ask why. There is no answer good enough. There is no reasonable, rational reason for the events of this day.”  hands on face drawing
I want to know what madness is,
and where its edges and beginnings are.
what path does a twisted mind travel
that can explain taking pride
in the slaying of innocents
what slight was so great that
it warrants wanton murder…