The day was September 11,
way back in 2001.
When I saw the towers collapsing,
it hit me with the crack of a gun.
Policeman, fireman everywhere,
each one muttering a silent prayer.
Going in to each of the towers ablaze,
entering a smoky, burning maze.
My mother cried, my sisters wailed,
at the sight that the horrible morning behailed.
Some jumped, ending lives in a single leap.
Others trapped, burned to death, will forever sleep.
I knew something was wrong,
but I didn't know.
For I was just three, how could I know?
That thousands of people,
thousands of lives,
ended in a breath, a blink of an eye.
We all went through it,
some were there.
When the planes hit the towers,
and Americans feared.
People stood there together,
with tear brimmed eyes.
Comforting strangers, whose loved ones were no longer alive.
Memorials were made,
candles were lit,
and slowly, slowly, bit by bit.
We came together, cried and shared,
our stories of loss and woe we felt there.
We fixed a nation,
slow but sure, and now we are stronger then ever before!
September 11, 2001.
A day changed the lives of more than just one.
But now, even though I was only three at the time...
I think back to that day filled with American pride!