Death On 911
Ash declines,
Fills full my lungs.
Towers fall,
As the whole world shuns.
Concrete tombs,
For good men and women.
Help will come,
But no one knows when.
Fight the good fight,
And cry bitter tears.
Broken flesh on my hand,
Has seen better years.
Come all ye willing,
And extinguish the fires.
Then sell all the relics,
To insensitive buyers.
Why do we fend,
For only our own.
When the needs of others,
Have become overgrown.
Burnt to oblivion,
And crushed under rocks.
The tears that we cry,
Replenish the stocks.
Tragedy our calling,
And pain our rush.
These are my last breathes,
For these rocks will crush.
Life has ended,
For so many of the best.
And now I know,
I will be the next.
Copyright © Sean Dunlap | Year Posted 2006
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