you won’t know when or how

Of the most recent of heartbreaking things I’ve read, find below a poem written by a child murdered in school with sixteen of his peers, teachers, and staff. The poem, written two weeks before his death and read by his father to a live broadcast across the nation one week after his death, is about roller coasters, “because,” as his father put it, “he loved roller coasters.” It’s your typical high school fair, but it has a resonance. “He wasn’t writing about his life,” said the father. And yet, it seems, he was of his, of their, of our collective struggle. The human experiment rolls on.

 

Life is like a roller coaster, Alex Schacter

Life is like a roller coaster
it has some ups and downs
Sometimes you can take it slow or very fast
It maybe hard to breath at times
but you have to push yourself and keep going
Your bar is your safety
it’s like your family and friends
You hold on tight and you don’t let go
But sometimes you might throw your hands up
Because your friends and family will always be with you
Just like that bar keeping you safe at all times
It maybe too much for you at times — the twists, the turns, the upside downs
But you get back up
you keep chugging along
eventually it comes to a stop
you won’t know when or how
but you will know that’ll be time to get off and start anew
Life is like a roller coaster