I don’t know how to start this.
How do you write something like
this?
I wish there was a simple way.
A way to say,
‘I’m sorry for what happened’,
without sounding as distant as
the moon.
Maybe it’s too soon to talk about
this,
but then I can’t miss
this time.
I wonder how you talk
about war,
about what others saw.
How a child died in front
of your eyes.
You saw a tear cry as
the breath left their
tiny body.
I don’t know how I
remember 15 years of death.
I can’t recall every
name,
number,
and never ending list.
I was just 5 years old when the
Twin Towers were hit.
I remember when Peace quit
his job and handed it
to the Devil.
We grew in a world
damaged by thinking violence
was the answer.
It spread just like cancer,
and couldn’t be stopped.
Politicians polluting our world
with rivers of
blood.
Soldiers who waded through mud
to take innocent lives.
Some swear they saw the Devil
in the smoke
that day,
that we had to pay for our sins.
Bodies floated like leaves from a tree.
Pictures that everyone should see.
I’ve waited for Peace to arrive,
but it appears his flight has been
delayed for years.
Tears cried for the children before
they grew.
They probably never knew of 9/11,
but they were taken by hate.
It is too late to say sorry,
and that it shouldn’t have happened.
You can never clean your hands
of guilt and blood.
They said it should be done,
but it was never the answer.
The Devil is a
dancer and you
are linking
arms with him.
We live in a world
of death,
of pain,
and it continues… again… again…
I hope there is a God because
I pray to him
every night.
The World needs to know
right and wrong.
The children sang of peace one day.
They hope we may leave this World
better than it is.
We’re the hateful generation,
born in a world of war.
We forget how many
have died.
We can never forget what
they
saw.
LegallyFierceFeminist 