9/11

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Quality: (Quality: Unrated)

I prepared myself, for the moments, too near;
I would walk through the door; I would face my fear.
Would he be alive? Or would he be dead?
The party of firefighters that he had lead.

I turned the golden knob, of our brown timber door,
Next second I would know, whether he had survived this war.
But when I entered the archway of my home, my castle,
My world was shaken as I saw a small gift rapped parcel.

My mother was looking at it but did not shed a tear,
When heard I was home, all could be said was “Oh, Emilie, you’re here”
We didn’t have to open it, we knew it was,
It was father’s possessions, and a note telling our loss.

I brushed my hair, and wore my best dress,
For this day was special, better then the rest.
My mother, so tired, so frail,
Tried to argue against but burst into a wail.

“Are you sure…” she said as she awoke
“…That you want to go,” she quietly spoke.
I told her, “fear not, for he will be grateful”
He would be happy, rather than hateful.

I hugged her and smiled but then walked out,
So she waited a while and cried, but then gave me a shout;
“Make them see, and make them feel,”
“But do not deceive them of what is real.”

I took her advice, but I already knew,
You see I was already aware of what I had to do.
The bus pulled in, and I hopped aboard,
Suddenly they all went silent, but I just ignored.

Ignorance and fear was all I could sense,
As each boy and girl, stood with their father parents.
I did not care what my brain was telling me,
My heart was in charge; love was all that was to be.

I stood alone, but yet I smiled,
“Where is you’re your father child?”
Said each man without sound.
But I did not cry, I didn’t not break down.

I walked alone into the school,
I sat alone, said to be un-cool.
But they all pitied as I still smiled,
Even the teacher looked bewailed.

Miss invited the men in the door,
The kids yelled “HAPPY FATHERS DAY!” with a roar.
Miss walked around to fathers of Bobby and Faye,
But when it came to me, she was searched what to say.


She looked at me; I looked at her,
All I could say was, “My father was Edward Oliver”
The whole class went silent,
Every kid, and every parent.

I started to talk; I talked without a tear,
I talked about my father, what had happened last year
“Today, you will not see my dad, like David and Mary-Sue,
“But, though he is still here, he will not arrive like most dads do.”

“Please join me and close your eyes,
“And in a moment you will realize.”
“What this is all about, as I explain,
“But do not be sad, as I am not in pain.”

“One year ago, two weeks into the future,
“My father, went to work, happy in his departure.”
“But when I came home, on a September day,
“My world was changed, as I was made aware an awful display.”

“He did not come home those awful nights,
“When I was told about those terrifying airplane flights.”
“But one day after school, my father’s things came home in a pack,
“We knew just then that that he wasn’t coming back.” 

“September 11th, a day for testing our bravery and hope,
“Was a day I realized life was a thing that I could cope.”
“All the innocents who died, without warning,
“It is for you that we will be forever mourning”

“My father is a bright angel in the heavens above,
“A firefighter who died in the act of giving others his love.”
“My father already a hero to my family,
“Made a hero to the world, and his daughter Emilie.”


Submitted by becca_da_angel69@hotmail.com 6


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