This was the year when grief moved in
And left our lodgings rearranged.
Nothing remained as it had been.
The furniture of our lives had changed.
No longer did we dare pretend
That hospitality could not fail,
That trust was mutual, friend to friend,
That human goodness would prevail.
The well from which we all must drink
Was poisoned, and the bitter taste
Clouded the streams of thoughts we think
And colored them with toxic waste.