With sadness, that never ceased,
I watched your Father shot on live television.
I was living in Chicago and Elena, a baby
in my arms asleep.
Your Father, Robert had just won California
and “on to Chicago” was his mission.
Sirhan-Sirhan., anti-Isreal, pro-Palestinian ,
shot your father in the hotel’s kitchen, near dead.
I sat in Chicago, in tearful disbelief, and...
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