Do we feel more deeply when it is our own citizens falling from towers, burning away in scorching flames?
Are their lives more valuable because they use day care, wear suits, and sip lattes at the local coffee shop?
What about those in bare feet on desert sands, caught in a swirl of civil unrest, or those steaming in the heat under colorless burqas, waiting for sons to come home, waiting for the sudden and shaking violence to end? Are our lives worth more than those?
For all the losses, tears. For all the pain, pleading? For all the fractured souls of earth, groaning. For all the war-torn and bleeding souls . . .
God, have mercy.