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Rated: GC · Poetry · Death · #536841
My WTC poem
Grey blood

Remember, remember
The 11th of September?

I am awash with death.
It coats me like oil slick.
Disorientation
There is a hole in the sky.
Never felt so isolated.
Never felt so alone.
Far away on my peaceful island, but the black cloud from my home has taken harbor in my heart.

My strange dark rainbow,
Arches like a question mark in the sky.
White for their innocent souls,
Grey for dust, and black, black for death.

Can’t change it.
Blood of many nations fills the gutters,
Blood that once flowed prim and proper in the veins of the bodies of real people,
People who had favorite colors, dentist appointments to keep and happy surprises in their lunchboxes
Now this blood mixing with ash and flowing in the sewer.

I really didn’t see those people leaping from the 100th story window, did I?
That’s impossible, that didn’t happen.
It can’t have happened, because it would rob me of my hope had I any left.
© Copyright 2002 Sarahfitz (sarahfitz at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/536841-Grey-Blood