... looking in the eyes of a babe or child that depends on you.
... holding hands walking down an autumn lane.
...knowing that you have a Saviour who cares more about the broken person sobbing in disillusionment than the sin he regrets committing.
...telling your son, "F- you when he makes a joke about your favorite team.
...waiting for news of people who you don't even know who are suffering.
How sad that some idiot/s in Boston don't know what love is.
But they know what hate is.
Hate for themselves so virulent that they have to inflict the pain on others to feel.
Hate for whoever they blame their problems on rather than the man in the mirror.
I don't care if you are an Islamic fanatic hoping for your however-many virgins.
I don't care if you are a twisted mind who believes they hear voices.
I don't care if you are IRA, or ETA, or Tamil Tiger, or Posse Comitatus.
I don't care if you are a devout Christian who feels called to destroy an abortion clinic.
I don't care if you are the high school junior who pushed the freshman wimp down to make yourself feel big.
How can what you are or what you did make you feel as good as love would?
How is it that you look upon death and destruction as an accomplishment?
No love, no honor, no courage... not even intelligence. Hate is the legacy you leave, the monument you've built.
A cold stone that people spit on.
Not worth having a name, not worth being known.
I'd rather seek love instead.