Six years ago, I wrote a poem entitled "Bar Kamtza's Audience - Tisha B'Av 5768." It was published here. Every year on Tisha B'Av, I wrestle with my thoughts and try to get them down on paper or Word document, and every year, I am drawn back to that original poem, and I realize it already expresses just about everything I have to say about this day and Jewish mourning.
This year, I felt there was more to say. There was a different kind of helplessness. I don't know if I managed to express it adequately in this poem, but I made an attempt. Here it is.