Marcello
ScriptMD
Group Organizer
New York, NY
Post #: 735


Nine years ago on the day before,

Whether you were rich,

Or you were feeling quite poor,

Think back to that day as you walked out the door,

On this ninth anniversary of the day before.


Try to remember the clothes that you wore,

Nine years ago on the day before,

A day that to think of makes your heart soar,

Whether you're now rich,

Or you're still feeling poor.


Nine years ago on the day before,

Our way of life they had come to abhor,

And driven to slaughter by hatred hardcore,

Would make New York City,

Look like it'd been through a war.


On that day when you walked out the door,

Nine years ago on the day before,

Regardless of what were the clothes that you wore,

For Osama Bin Laden,

You were much less than a whore.


Nine years ago on the day before,

He and his followers would teach us a lesson they swore,

With a day that would follow that still makes our hearts sore -

On this ninth anniversary -

Of the day before.



Marcello
ScriptMD
Group Organizer
New York, NY
Post #: 736


And


There's only scorching smoke

And gritty soot

That sears and burns

And chokes our every breath.


And


There's nothing that will save us here -

Nothing.


I jump.


I hear the screams of those I left behind

Who breathe and burn and watch

As I glide past smoke and ash

And reams of paper flying through the air.


And


I see the frantic faces

And burning people

Through the broken windows that speed by me

As I descend.


And


I feel my blood

As it pours out my nose

As I plunge through the sky

Down towards the ground below.


And


I'm spun around

And I'm plummeting

Head first

With my arms pinned against my side.


And


I hurl ever faster

In freefall

Towards the quickly approaching

Shrieking faces on the street below.


And


I hear the thoughts

And see the words around me

As I land in a spreading puddle of

My own blood.


I am not alive

Nor

Am I dead

Nor

Do I know

Exactly

Where I am.


I look around

And all I see

Is life and death

And something

Somewhere in between.


I try to stand

And try to breathe

But find

I can not feel my legs.


I must be dead

I must be dead

And yet I don't quite

Feel like I am dead.


I'm sinking lower

And rising higher

And yet

I'm staying exactly where I am.


They're all around me

And one comes towards me

And puts a blanket

Over my head.


The life inside me

I now can feel

Is quickly

Slipping away.


It's very dark

I feel so cold

And there's something

I thought I'd never say.


The life I lived and loved

Is almost over,

With one last breath -


I'm dea ...



Marcello
ScriptMD
Group Organizer
New York, NY
Post #: 737


Memories,

Serve us well,

As long we remember -

To remember.



Marcello
ScriptMD
Group Organizer
New York, NY
Post #: 738


Always,

Even in the midst of despair,

Lie the roots -

Of a new beginning.



Marcello
ScriptMD
Group Organizer
New York, NY
Post #: 739


Countless blessings,

So many -

They're taken for granted.



Marcello
ScriptMD
Group Organizer
New York, NY
Post #: 740


Energy,

Flows majestically,

When the sails of inspiration -

Meet the back-winds of enthusiasm.




Marcello
ScriptMD
Group Organizer
New York, NY
Post #: 741


Over and done with,

Words one longs to hear -

In the midst of a storm.



Marcello
ScriptMD
Group Organizer
New York, NY
Post #: 742


Confusion,

Gets resolved -

Or becomes chaos.



Marcello
ScriptMD
Group Organizer
New York, NY
Post #: 743


Actions,

Richly deserve -

Their just rewards.




Marcello
ScriptMD
Group Organizer
New York, NY
Post #: 745


Stand firm by your beliefs -

Or you'll be following someone else's.



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