The New Pheidippides

 

The New Pheidippides

 

Martin Richard bleeds like Boston

Blood red socks strewn on the ground

Massacred like Crispus Attucks

Hardly time to hear the sound

Bombs, ball-bearings, flying razors

Slashed the crowd on Boylston Street

Police, officials, random strangers

Drank death’s whiskey served up neat

Missing teeth at First Communion

Martin’s smile on my TV

Tears from neighbors missing Martin

Wordless, senseless tragedy

Too young to have seen the Towers

Crumble that September blue

Not too young to take, a victim,

Shrapnel meant for me and you

Now a family’s torn asunder

Flags half staff, as Ashmont weeps,

Face the Pesky Pole at Fenway,

Silently while Martin sleeps.

Pheidippides gasped out his message

“We have won a victory”

Fell to earth. His death for many

Seeming contradictory.

May Martin’s death inspire many

Fighting terror to fight on

So that freedom reign forever

Faneuil Hall to Marathon!