Some one else’s good news does not heal our private pain

The following is an excerpt from chapter 17 of the September 11th Epic Poem. The poem was written between June 2008 and May 2010. It is 2,000 lines long and has 1,499 rhyming pairs.
 
A human brain destroyed by pain
            Will often gripe at God,
Who must have guilt because He built
            A world that’s clearly flawed.
In times of grief there’s no relief
            In other people’s bliss:
It makes the curse just that much worse
            For those who go through this.
 
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