A Dime A Dozen.

This fire shall die its death,
sparks quickly giving way;
of all that did which combined,
has now silently all gone astray.

Seventy mindful placards,
a drive full of flowers;
and a nation kept glued,
for seventy eight hours.

But sensitivities mean the lonely,
and those who lost someone;
the rest shall solemnly walk today,
and in January, run the marathon.