Normal is September Ten,
A clear and present day,
Safe and sound America,
Business without delay.
A day when cathedral towers
Diminish everything in sight,
And three-thousand citizens
Still plan on lasting light.
Normal is homeland security,
This continent at busy peace,
A rich and winding tapestry,
Freedom soaring puffs of fleece.
Chaos is September Eleven,
Twin towers tumbling down,
The American family mourning,
Mostly rubble to be found.
A day damned by silver jets
Falling from clutching skies,
Becoming rockets of disaster,
Exploding evil webs and lies.
Chaos is unsung heroes
Springing from simple lives,
Facing nameless enemies
Despite those piercing knives.
Normal is war by armies,
Carried to distant soil,
Commanded by politicians,
Leaving enemies to boil.
We shall wish for September Ten
The remainder of our years,
And it is the resolve of Eleven
That forever sanctifies our tears.
Renewing our ancestral heart
That we are Americans proud,
Where freedom is an eagle…
Gliding resolutely, screeching loud.
© Brent Green, 2001
Genre: Patriotism
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