Feb 2014
Soaring tower, representing
All those lost and still lamenting
Shining beacon, glimmers bright
Visible across the night.
Born from ashes long since vanished
Feeds a city’s skyline famished
Loss of twins is not forgotten
But We the People cannot stop
In our endeavor to revive them
No more time for crying beside them!
Reflecting pools have filled with tears
Of agony throughout the years.
From high above we can look proudly
Up to Heaven, screaming loudly
“Our freedom has been fixed!”
To seventeen hundred and seventy-six.
All those lost and still lamenting
Shining beacon, glimmers bright
Visible across the night.
Born from ashes long since vanished
Feeds a city’s skyline famished
Loss of twins is not forgotten
But We the People cannot stop
In our endeavor to revive them
No more time for crying beside them!
Reflecting pools have filled with tears
Of agony throughout the years.
From high above we can look proudly
Up to Heaven, screaming loudly
“Our freedom has been fixed!”
To seventeen hundred and seventy-six.
When they placed the spire on top of One World Trade Center in May 2013, I felt inspired to write. For twelve years, the skyline of Manhattan lacked symbolism downtown. I remember 9/11 vividly, but the hardest thing, for me at least, was driving into the city and not being able to see those glorious buildings towering over New York City. This poem is dedicated to all those that lost their lives on 9/11/01
