The Day Peace Died!
On nine..one..one
two thousand one
when acts of terror
made blood run,
in planes and
in the Pentagon,
and in Twin Towers
now both gone.
Many trembling fingers
dialed this date
of Nine...one...one
then met their fate.
~
How ironic that
this day of grief
was nine...one...one
beyond belief,
that numbers meant
to bring relief,
are now marked with tears
and funeral wreaths.
~
The chaos on Flight 93
met by uncommon bravery,
one hostage spoke
of votes they'd made
to fight their captors
unafraid.
They knew their plane
was set to wound
their nation
soon it'd be their tomb,
just citizens
yet unabashed
they faced sharp blades
and flesh was slashed.
Then in the struggles
that ensued
they crashed and died
as heros true,
because each person
fought and won,
that plane never
made Washington.
~
In New York City
living hell,
Twin towers smashed
then burned
then fell.
Of those who went
to work that day
thousands of souls
were swept away.
~
Three hundred
fire fighters came,
policemen too
answered the calls,
they dashed up stairs
and into flames,
and perished in
the towers falls.
Unselfishly they ran
each one
responding to
those nine...one..ones,
they breathed their last
yet still they tried,
on nine...one...one
when angels cried.
~
Inside the Pentagon
there came,
an act of war
to kill and maim,
not bullets
or a rockets flame,
this missile
a civilian plane.
~
The death tolls rose
an awesome tide,
their world's collapsed
nowhere to hide,
from madmen
bent on suicide.
~
Facing sure death
no place to run,
they dialed the numbers
nine...one...one.
With brave goodbyes,
escapes denied,
with courage
and American pride,
on nine...one...one
"The Day Peace died."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Artis
Adding your comment:
