This poem's a bit different then I'm used to writing, but I came up with it this morning around the 3 am hour since September 11th has come around yet again. It's just pretty much rambled thoughts rolled into one. Though, usually not my style of writing, hopefully everyone will enjoy reading it who take the time to do so. Rock on my friends and have a great weekend.
“The Ghost Of September 11th”
Breaking delicate threads, violence shattered the seams.
Of what some knew as a familiar place.
Our instincts now are to help, feel anger, or mourn.
Those lost we can never replace.
Standing in the tiresome tide.
Some attempted to help, yet we’ll never again see their face.
The victims became many.
Children and families without one of their own.
No chance given for some to escape.
Warning calls to leave were unable to be heard.
Amongst a whirlwind of utter desperation.
Lives hung in the balance of a morning obscured.
Lost in such a violent passage of time.
Their territory took on nothing but sights of ashen stain.
So thick as to barely see.
What now amidst the cries do we do?
As some said so long to family.
Some never came to know a loved one at all.
Born only mere days after the fact.
In a sea of bittersweet emotion.
One parent here, one not coming back.
All that lies now are the ghosts of north and south towers.
Of where smoke and fire once billowed out.
The buildings are gone, both had fallen.
Plummeting, plummeting, plummeting.
Drowning in the shadows.
Which left behind forever memories of nine eleven.
Written by:
Tagerocker on
September 11, 2009