A/N: Haha, welll...this is really late...I know I've been , like, dead lately, but I AM ALIVE! And am writing my new chapter for Elevators! It'll be up soon! I hope! But anyway, yeah, this is a crazy late poem I wrote a while ago and just decided to turn into a story and post! This is the first time I've done something like this, and I really do hope you all enjoy this! It is very sad, I am warning you now! Please let me know what you think! I would love to have some critique on my poem because poetry is a passion of mine, and I want to improve on it! For now though, I will leave you here. *waves and leaves tissues* You may want these...
Alfred sat down on his kitchen table and ran his hands through his messy hair. The young country was in an unusually somber mood this morning, but it was for a good reason. Today marked the 10th year since he had been the victim of a terrorist attack. September 11, 2011. Ten years...It had been 10 years...He couldn't believe it. Ten years and the pain was still fresh. Sure, he had gotten revenge on the men who had planned the attack, but it still hurt. To know he'd lost so many people because of a crazy man! Him! The United States of America! The only superpower left in the world! It was a huge blow to his pride.
Though in the end, good came from it. His people came together, he went out and showed the world he hadn't become a push over and weak just because of the attack. He'd never let something like that happen again, but it still did not stop the hurt.
Sighing, Alfred slumped in his seat, and he wiped away a stray tear that was tracing its way down his face. There were so many emotions stirring inside of him now, and he needed to release them somehow! They were pulling him apart. Bolting up, he grabbed a pencil and a sheet of paper. He had gone through a phase where he did a lot of writing, and right now, it seemed like all he could do was put down his feelings into words. A poem. Chewing on his pencil, Al leaned over on his table and began to write, tears falling and staining the paper by the end. Here is what he wrote:
Never Forget
Never forget-
the lives.
Never forget-
the families.
Never forget-
the pain.
Never forget-
the planes.
Always remember,
the lost.
Always remember,
the brave.
Always remember,
the living.
Always remember,
the names.
Keep in mind
the heroes.
Keep in mind
the dead.
Keep in mind
the cowards.
Keep in mind
the plan.
Hear the screams;
listen to the thunder.
Watch the clouds appear,
the people run,
and the buildings fall.
One
by
One.
With people inside.
Choke on the dust,
feel the vibrations,
sift through the rubble,
searching for that one life.
Pull down walls,
pick up steel,
grasp the hand reaching out.
Hear their voices chorus as one:
Help me!
Save their life.
If you remember,
I will too.
If we don't forget,
neither will they.
That one day.
The day that changed lives,
those who took the lives,
and they who saved the lives.
Keep in mind
those two towers,
the single date,
the dead,
and the survivors.
Always remember
Nine Eleven.
Never forget.
Al looked down at the water marked paper on his table and wiped his eyes. The handwriting was messy and shakey, but he was feeling better. It had helped him. He may have to write more sometime...He need some kind of outlet, and at the moment, it seemed poetry was the best. Getting up from his chair, Alfred walked to his kitchen window, and closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face. He would never forget, and neither would his people.
A/N: *wipes eyes* Told you it was sad...Sorry this is so late, Alfred, I was having trouble convincing myself to post this. I really do hope you all enjoyed the poem and story. PLEASE R&R! I would love to get some feedback!
For now, LittleK3 signing off! Later!
