9-11-2001 (How I Spent My Summer Vacation) Poem by Alfred Ramos

9-11-2001 (How I Spent My Summer Vacation)



8 AM
Crisp bacon and scrambled eggs
Somewhere in the world a pauper begs
8: 15 AM
Coffee and toast with strawberry jam
6 billion people don’t care who I am
8: 30 AM
A stroll back to the hotel to burn some calories
The morning sun lights up the Capitol’s galleries
8: 46 AM
Back at the hotel, a news flash of the hour
A plane has crashed into the North Tower
9: 00 AM
We board a Metro train to go visit the White House
People scrambling around like a church mouse
9: 03 AM
The South Tower is hit by a plane
This cannot be an accident so easy to explain
9: 30 AM
Announcement over intercom: All trains to Pentagon cancelled
Blank faces stumble to the exits, their psyche dismantled
9: 45 AM
Unbeknownst to us the Pentagon is hit by an airliner
Taking a chunk out of the heart of its designer
10: 00 AM
The world is shaken by pandemonium, mass hysteria, ghost white fear
And that is what we can see in the reflection of a store front mirror
10: 15 AM
Was the White House hit, we ask those lost in rage
Yes they said, we must leave our common sense like a torn page
10: 30
Total gridlock has stopped this city
Some are crying, some looking for pity
10: 45
A few strong survivors give us a glimpse of hope
Keeping their balance from sliding down a slippery slope
11: 00 AM
We must now walk several miles back to our hotel
The streets slowly fill with military personnel
11: 15 AM
Businesses close their doors for fear of lawlessness
The world changing before our eyes we must confess
11: 30 AM
With misplaced feelings we start to wonder
Had we heard the last of the thunder
In the distance a cloud of spiraling smoke could be seen
It was the Pentagon, the effects of a hi-jacked flying machine
We eventually made it back to our safe hotel
Away from the doorsteps to hell
Maybe we should have listened to an earlier omen
Two days past we were awaken by false fire alarm, at 2 AM
This wasn’t how we wanted to view history
But what lies in the hearts of terrorist will always be a mystery

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
385 / 255
Alfred Ramos

Alfred Ramos

California
Close
Error Success