That Day Back When Our Innocence Was Apparent
a poem in remembrance
The sky is falling with heaps of debris
The arms, the legs, the smoke I see
Papers strewn, glide on twinkling fire
People leap to escape from the dire
Hell that was unseen in the midst of our ire.
Be the heroes that move with selfless pride
Scale the steps in your pachyderm hide
No end in sight yet you’ll save who you can
Never a day where we had a plan
To catch in our arms the falling man.
The falling man, the falling man
Never a day where we had a plan
To drag from the depths fragments of bones
Crumpled hats, the steel among stones
Clearing wreckage to seek helpless moans.
Terror now fraught in lower Manhattan
Western PA, D.C. came to flatten
The walls, the fields, what else was to fall
Could this destruction be set to us all
And send to their knees the families to bawl?
In union our effort killed ten times more
Than the workers who fell on the ninety-eighth floor
We slipped up in the last century
Now we must crush this treachery
And furnish a new world memory.
