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.

Yet...

 on THE day they died,

MY

universe INSIDE,

spun off its AXIS hurling me apart,

a black hole

sucked

 me through

a bomb

inside

 me blew

and there’s been

NOTHING

left

 to call....

'my heart.'

No plane can fly me back,

nor subways find THE track

and healing tries

but knows NOT where to start.

For...

on the day they died...

NONE of

 ME

survived,

(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

 both changed

....the day they died.