PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It was a cool, late-summer's mornin';

The sun shone brightly as it rose from the deep,

Businessmen drank coffee and watched CNN,

While mothers woke their children from a school-night's sleep.

Old men gathered in diners to speak of the "good old days",

Planes took to the skies, trains chanted "Clicka-clacka",

Traffic roared to life on the nation's freeways;

Just another morning in America...



An accountant in Queens kissed his wife goodbye,

Saying he'd probably be home late again:

A student from Harvard looked into the clear blue sky,

Anxiously awaiting his first time in a 747.

An MP filled out his morning report with ease

As he strolled down the halls of the Pentagon;

A railway conductor shouted "Tickets, please!"

At Grand Central Station before letting people on.



All of us woke up on that fateful day,

And went about our lives, like we'd always done:

little did we know what we would later say,

What we would later feel, or what had just begun.

A world we'd always known forever melted away,

And the heart of the nation sank as sure as the setting sun...



What was once known as a land of opportunity

Became a land of confusion in the wink of an eye;

It was first seized by a wave of unity,

As we all asked but one question: WHY?

Then, as we learned who was responsible for this,

It was gripped by vengence against one man;

Ships went sent and troops deployed in search of justice,

Which would be found in the death of one who wears a turban.



World leaders condemned such an atrocious act,

But few stepped forward to support such an endeavour:

Slowly the world came to face a simple fact;

No one was immune to this new wave of terror.

It slowly spread across the nations of the globe,

From the sands of the Middle East to the roads of London:

Soon entire nations were placed in its Islamic robe,

As millions were blamed for what only a few had done.



What was first an act of retaliation

Quickly became a quest for military glory,

And its support fell from our nation

As its death toll rose without finding its quarry;

With many actions taken that defy justification,

How costly must this anti-terrorost war be?



Five years later, on that same cool mornin',

The sun still shines, but not as it once had;

We still drink coffee and watch CNN,

Shaking our heads and wondering how it all got this bad.

Old men still gather to speak of the "good old days",

Before planes and trains became "weapons of mass destruction";

Traffic still roars on the nation's freeways,

As long as there are no breaks in oil production.



A female soldier in Iraq calls her husband in the States,

Saying she probably won't make it home for the holidays;

A policeman in London is proud to tell his mates

That he hasn't caught any terrorists in days.

A cop in New York City makes his rounds with unease

As he walks near the site where thousands went to the Lord;

An inspector shouts, "No liquids or I-Pods, please!"

At an airport terminal before letting ANYONE aboard.



All of us woke up on that fateful day,

And now we do things that we've never done before:

Now we know what we truly have to say,

How we ALL feel, either alone or as one...

"We WILL survive, no matter the cost we must pay,

So that 9/11 will never happen again, to ANYONE!!!"







Patrick W. Hopkins                           9/4/2006