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.