I Didn't Want to Write this Poem

I didn’t want to write this poem
Of twenty children dead.
I’d much prefer composing words
Of pleasant things instead.

I didn’t want to think up rhymes
For evil, horror, shock;
I’d like to hide those images
Behind a mental block.

I didn’t want to conjure up
A classroom filled with death,
Or parents of those kindergartners
Struggling for breath.

I didn’t want to write of those
Who heard each awful shot.
I didn’t want to write this poem
But then, how could I not?