Two plumes of smoke
I can see them from school!
Beautiful, falling upwards into the clouds
Hustled out, sent to our parents, wherever they are
It’s a trip for me
a horror movie
for the rest of the country
to have fun getting freaked out about.
We all know somebody
who knew somebody
who lost somebody
and there are so many somebodies
we learn to ignore everybody.
But they were pretty, the smoke clouds
Hiding the places where the buildings used to be.
A nation was waiting for an excuse to explode.
And invent some enemies, it’s a game.
And, following, the torture
blame and hate
The clouds don’t seem so pretty anymore.
How long until they teach us?
If you never forget,
You’ll keep on creating reminders.
I was in 1st Grade in New York City during 9/11. And the first thing I thought when I looked across the river was how beautiful the clouds were.
Helpful criticism would be great! This is my first poem on redbubble, and its definitely just a first draft (wrote it on the subway).