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He said he killed his baby,

His own thirteen month old boy.

Of course, it was an accident

And, he tries to say,

His faith has helped him,

Though he’s clearly avoiding my eyes.

I say it’s our worst fear

And how many times it almost happened:

My own baby accidentally left in a hot car,

My own child run-away down a busy road.

So close, and yet, mine still live.

There but for the Grace of God, I say.

And, I don’t understand

Why people choose to bring sorrow

Into a world where sorrow finds them.

We’re all just a tick away from tragedy.

He agrees, says he’s had enough

These last three years of mourning.

There’ll never be a day he doesn’t see

His child run-over.

There’ll never be a day he doesn’t want

Another chance to stop the car

He says, there must be a reason.

For him, I surely hope there is,

And so, I agree.

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