-September 11, 2001

This morning started normal,
just another day at school.
All my friends around me,
the weather, it was cool.

I talked to my friend behind me,
like I do every year.
Our conversations are always joyful,
always so full of cheer.

Then I heard a familiar sound,
to end that first class.
But this one I won't forget,
not for many years to pass.

I walked into that hall,
to go to my second class.
But something was going on,
in the classroom that I passed.

Looked like a smokestack,
high up in the air.
But why was it on tv,
and why was everyone full of dispair?

I called out to my friend,
he slowed so I could match his pace.
When I asked him what was up,
cheer left his face.

What I thought was a smokestack,
wasn't what it seemed.
Please tell me it's a lie,
only just a dream.

It seems the country is i n shambles,
something went terribly wrong.
But who would do such a thing,
this thought it doesn't belong.

The city is so far away,
but holds a special place.
I was on my way to Boston,
to tell of God's love and grace.

I seen a sight I will never forget,
a sight I will forever hold.
We traveled over the Hudson,
and the view was better than gold.

There in the distance,
was something that we'll never see again.
New York City in all it's splendor,
if it was a woman, I'd give her a 10.

ONe thing sticks out though,
something giving the city power.
But why would someone destroy them,
both of the Twin Towers?

Then the thought hit me,
like a dagger to the heart.
The people who were involed,
and it just tore me apart.

The towers held thousands,
and thousands upon more.
That was kicked out of this life,
by a few men, right out of the door.

Then I heard the unthinkable,
there was more that went on.
They had yet another plane,
to crash into the Pentagon.

I remember this place also,
it was just so huge.
They went too far now,
There's only one thing left to do.

War is now has been debated,
this, too, wasn't good.
The whole country is going ape,
now I'm in a bad mood.

This day started out,
so fair and so sweet.
Just goes to show you,
not everyday will you get a treat.

So many innocent people,
not wanting to die.
I wonder what their lifestyles were,
I just want to go hide.

Of these many many people,
what was the percent?
HOw many of them recieved,
the Holy Spirit that was sent?

Did I do my job very well,
while I was up there?
Why don't it come easier,
to change the hearts everywhere?

I could have done more,
all of us could.
We could have reached more people,
like God said we should.

No telling how many of these people,
the ones we did not tell.
How many of them found their name in the Book,
and how many went to Hell.

If I had to guess
and do it all in my head.
I'd say the majority didn't make it,
forever they'll be dead.

-Scott Carroll

**I know this poem is riddled with grammatical errors, just like everything I write, so please don't comment on that. And I know that there's no happy points in this poem, mostly because I wrote it the night of September 11, and I was extremely upset. If you hated it, sorry, if you liked it, good. I also want to apologize for some of the "cheap" rhymes and the length of the thing.**