I Miss Him Dearly As Do We All

The good words spoken,
can not mend the hearts that have been broken.

We hang pictures and prayers, wind chimes and flags,
statues and patches all this between tears.
All in attempt not to let go,
trying to stem this relentless feeling of woe.

To the World Trade they ran, up high they did stand,
Just what makes this kind of man?

Is it iron or steel or could it be the axe that they wail.
Family pride, strong constitutions they could not hide,
that's what it must be.
A man like no other.

A man I'm proud to call brother.

---

343

Who knew what was to be,
To the towers ran N.Y.F.D.

Halogen and axe in hand,
There in the face of peril they did stand.

Saving lives one by one,
We knew they would NOT run.

Our sons, our fathers, our brothers,
our husbands, our cousins,
No time for political discussions.

This may be our last stand,
So lets save who we can.

Now the smoke has been lifted,
all debris has been shifted,
the casualties have been listed.

Who knew what was to be,
In toll our hero's 343.

Back to Poems and Stories