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by Lara Guinevere Traver
October 26th, 2001

 

A bright beautiful morning,

            Not a cloud in the sky,

                        The lake and its fountain,

                                    A bright wonderful future ahead.

                                                Then clouds of smoke on TV,

                                                            What could have happened?

                                                                        Two planes crash into tall buildings,

                                                                        One plane crashes into five-sided building,

                                                                        A fourth plane still flying,

                                                                        That one crashed into a field.

                                                            All the planes are stopped and grounded,

                                                The sky is silent dead silent,

                                    Phones start to ring people cry to hear each other,

                        I love youís shared all over the place,

            People are heard from and more tears fall,

Questions begin to be asked,

            Why did it happen, whereís my father,

                        Who could do such a horrible thing?

                                    Two tall towers fell to the ground,

                                                A side of the five has collapsed,

                                                            Where is he? Where is she?

                                                                        They are trapped under steel,

                                                                        Under burning rubble and concrete,

                                                                        They didnít get out all right.

                                                                        Firefighters rush in to help,

                                                            They search the rubble,

                                                They look for hope,

                                    They move so fast,

                        People come together to help,

            They bring food and comfort.

People comfort each other,

            Time ticks away,

                        Hope starts to flicker,

                                    They donít find people,

                                                They find more rubble.

                                                            And then one phone call,

                                                                        Iím sorry Mrs. Willcher, your husband,

                                                                        Was in the five- sided building,

                                                                        Disbelief, despair, are you sure?

                                                                        But he got the part,

                                                            In the show he had been hoping for,

                                                His family and friends surround him,

                                    He deals with it better than most,

                        He becomes busy and deals better,

            Mrs. Willcher goes back to teaching,

And so life goes on, no longer normally,

            It has changed now,

                        Planes go over once again,

                                    But look for they may fall again,

                                                The two towers have no more hope,

                                                            They all are dead there,

                                                                        They only find dead bodies,

                                                                        Parts of bodies and rubble,

                                                                        No more human life is there,

                                                                        But only strength remains.

                                                            They still look through the rubble,

                                                They clean up the mess that was made,

                                    They make new plans for new towers,

                        America is strong and does not give up,

            Americans go back to their normal,

They go to work in fear now,

            They fly with extra caution,

                                    They look up at planes now,

                                                Ready to run if it gets closer,

                                                            Nightmares fill Americans dreams,

                                                                        Dreams of planes crashing,

                                                                        And jumping out of buildings,

                                                                        The fires in the tall buildings,

                                                                        And getting out before it falls,

                                                            But the nightmares stop,

                                                People are able to sleep better,

                                    They go to work without so much fear,

                        Security is tight but safer,

            It almost feels normal,

Oh look a letter for me!

            What is this powder in it?

                        Why do I feel sick with flu?

                                    Who sent me this letter?

                                                Kabul was bombed today,

                                                            America has decided to fight,

                                                                        We send bombs and planes,

                                                                        His father is on a flying desk,

                                                                        On an airplane in Afghan,

                                                                        Heíll be back on Thursday,

                                                            He comes home on Thursday,

                                                The letters have anthrax,

                                    There is a cure for it,

                        Drug companies make plenty of it,

            That will make us feel better,

More letters are sent,

            They are sent to newscasters,

                        Some have died from these letters,

                                    Allah be praised,

                                                America will go down,

                                                            More powder in the envelopes,

                                                                        More people get letters,

                                                                        Will it stop?

                                                                        More bombs fall,

                                                                        America sends food to Afghan,

                                                            America sends food to the hungry,

                                                Our troops make progress,

                                    Soon they will find bin Laden,

                        Soon it will stop,

            The bright future,

Will come back.

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Copyright © 2001 Lara Guinevere Traver

 
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