This is what I wrote in my journal four years ago.
Farther and further away
From the tattoo day,
But the ink never dries
When it’s a soul that cries.
Moments of silence
For the pointless violence,
As the blood needle burns
From too late lessons learned.
See the red rain inside
A loss flowing from those who died,
A condition now part of the skin
Making pores that can’t be filled in.
It’s owed to those who lost
To always remind of the measureless cost,
Still farther way
Never forget this tattoo day.
Now ten years since it happened and four years since I wrote this, I’m still haplessly trying to figure it out. How could anyone think that killing thousands of innocent people was the right thing to do? How would families, fire departments, friends, and co-workers ever move past losing someone? Has our military response made the world a better place?
It took less than five years since the attacks for the number of US soldier deaths to surpass the number of people who were killed on 9-11 (see CNN article). Will our military presence in Iraq or Afghanistan ever result in an end to terrorism? I have passes to go visit the 9/11 memorial on September 30th. I doubt this will help answer any of my questions, but I feel (like writing this poem) it’s a way I can honor those who lost their lives 10 years ago.
Let’s hope and pray for less local and worldly violence over the next ten years…
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