Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Journal #19

Here I was sitting at my battered desk, 
A few minutes before the tragic mess. 
The ancient radio was whistly on, 
Playing an old, forgotten country song.

Out of the corner of my drowsy eye, 
I saw a winged beast hurling through the sky. 
An airplane crashed through the north tower walls. 
"Help me, help me!" were the heartbreaking calls. 

Black smoke, bright flames and ash was all I saw,
I had a horrible pain in my jaw. 
Bright, red blood dripped and ran down my pale face. 
There were hurt people all over the place. 

It was hard to see and I couldn't breathe, 
That was the moment I began to scream. 
I tried really hard to find my way out,
The ruins of a door I came about. 

Running through all the people and debris, 
I remember I'm on floor 23. 
As I try to find the only staircase, 
I'm slowly losing needed breathing space. 

I didn't know if I would be alive,
I kept telling myself "I will survive." 
The floors appeared to go on forever, 
But I wouldn't give up whatsoever. 

As I got closer to the final stair, 
Death, pain and screaming filled the dusty air. 
At last I reached the bottom after years, 
Sprinting through the doors I burst into tears. 

All around me were clouds of as and smoke. 
The thick dust and ash made me gag and choke. 
As I turned around to see what was left, 
I realized that what remained was death.  

That day many people went to Heaven, 
Due to the harrowing 9/11. 

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