The Poverty Of My Soul Poem by LeeAnn Azzopardi
The Poverty Of My Soul
How can I stop the memories of
The planes hitting the twin towers
But there's no point
The documenteries and articles
In the New Yorker and the Washington Post
Keep me up at night
The vision of the terrible day
For twenty-two years
I have no words left to put my fear at ease
It's the poverty of my soul
And have become numb until I realise
It's September
They are shown again and again
And you wonder why I have a fear of flying
Erica Jong is my favourite poetess, that's why I know about that. Your poem is magnificent and deserves a greatest BRAVO!
5 Stars for you, dear LeeAnn, poertess Erica Jong ever mentioned already before that disaster all happened. She had not known about the twintower crashing down, but she wrote a poem FEAR Of FLYING.
This poignant but wonderful poem resonates with me. Whenever I travel by plane there is always that fear like a sword of Damocles hanging over my head. A well expressed poem, LeeAnn!
Of tears and flowers, April showers! When Spring falls no bird calls! "It's September"
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/30/2026 1:18:57 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
Of tears and flowers