This poem was written the night of Tuesday, September 11th, 2001. It’s dedicated to all the people who died or lost loved ones in the attacks.
Eight a.m.
No one suspecting
That just thirty minutes from now
A terrorist attack
Would leave the U.S. shell-shocked and numb.
Eight forty-five
One plane has crashed
Into a tall, important building
There's fire everywhere
You can't see a thing at all -- where is everybody?
Nine a.m.
Is that another plane
Heading toward the tall, important building?
Will more fire engulf us?
Will we get out alive? Will we survive it?
Nine oh three
Another plane has crashed
Into that tall, important building
There's more fire all around
Black smoke chokes us, fills our eyes -- will we get out alive?
Nine forty-three
No, it just can't be
The news says that another plane has crashed
Into the Pentagon, that special building
There's sorrow in our hearts
As we combat the smoke and the fire -- will they get out alive?
Nine fifty
The country is in shock
Two important buildings
The Pentagon, the World Trade Center;
As we fight our way down the stairs
Out of the smoke, out of the fire, out of the dust.
Ten a.m.
Nothing more has happened
But we are still fighting, fighting,
The fire, the smoke, the stairs
People worry
We worry -- will we all survive?
Ten oh five
Heaven help us
The building is collapsing
Friends, family are trapped, bleeding, dying
We scream as we see it, feel it, hear it
Surely none of us will make it out alive. None of us can make it out alive!
Ten twenty-eight
It's falling
They say it's falling
Thank goodness we're mostly out
It will fall, and many will die. Smoke, dust…
It will fall, and some won't make it out alive.
I couldn't put into words the feelings of much after this. This is to all the people who died in the attacks, who had loved ones in danger or unknown circumstances.