The Bomb

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Tags:
  • Loss

    The Bomb
    The blood pours down their faces
    Like zombies
    They stagger into the light
    Torn clothes
    Ripped souls
    On their way to work
    Newspapers folded
    A coffee light and sweet
    Flashes of fire
    The earth shakes
    When someone hates
    Innocence lost
    So long ago
    Shock sets in
    None the less
    In the moments before death
    Do they think
    "But I'm going to be late?"

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    dave005 commented on The Bomb

    02-09-2009

    very good, full of emotion and memories of 9/11. well done
    Reply to Comment

    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

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