On the day they died
planes STILL broke through clouds,
and people at the airport frenzied by,
the queues were just as long,
the engines roared as strong,
and faint hearts palpitated flying high...
On the day they died,
the subway trains still ran
and in them squashed sardines still pushed and shoved,
and on the day they died,
the home team won again
and those alive STILL did the things they loved.
Nature didn’t change, nor planets rearrange,
breezes ruffled petals on the vine,
the radio STILL worked,
the coffee pots STILL perked
and ALL my clocks still TICKED in perfect time.
on THE day they died,
spun off its AXIS hurling me apart,
a black hole
and there’s been
No plane can fly me back,
nor subways find THE track
and healing tries
but knows NOT where to start.
on the day they died...
(except a shell holding all this pain)
life around me grows
everything STILL flows,
and to ALL who look at me I seem.... the same.
I feign my smiles along life's miles,
I keep up with the stride
and somehow through this chaos I remain
and a place they call ground zero
feels my emptiness inside
and years pass by but tears still never go
and there’s no feeling better
or forgetting what I know:
that the world and I
....the day they died.