I Watched At The Base Of The Twin Towers Poem by Philip Lore

As I stood at the base of the twin towers,
Mere words cannot explain.
The fear, the shock, this deliberate act,
By terrorists, who hijacked two planes.

The engines screamed as it started down,
Seconds passed like years.
People stood in shock and awe,
My heart beat fast, I felt my tears.

Just then I thought...This must be a dream,
A second plane veered in.
I froze...and then...with body tense, I began to scream.
The crowd just stared with out a sound...
Dear Lord...It' happening again.

Flames burned metal, pieces fell,
It must have been a living hell.
Bodies falling from way up high,
Oh God! How many people will have to die?

New York's finest rushed our way,
Little known, they would die this day.
New York's bravest held their ground,
Crushed by the towers crashing down.

Father Mike rested in a chair,
As Firemen carried him away.
It was hard to believe he died today,
I closed my eyes and began to pray.
I asked the Lord why was this his fate,
He whispered softly....to my call.
So Father Mike can greet them all,
With Saint Peter...At Heaven's Gate.