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My story, WTC poem

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  • nikp16
    replied
    Thank you for posting this.


    stay safe,
    Nik

    Leave a comment:


  • FF 13 50
    replied
    thanks, that means alot, wrote this peom for the two other fireman who came up with me but decided to post it after i read "It was me"

    Leave a comment:


  • 70701224
    replied
    Well said. Wish I could have been there to help.

    Stay safe

    Leave a comment:


  • Josie035
    replied
    {{hug}}

    i'm so sorry....so saddened...

    Josie

    Leave a comment:


  • pepper
    replied
    Very eloquently put. God bless and stay safe.

    Leave a comment:


  • FF 13 50
    started a topic My story, WTC poem

    My story, WTC poem

    Brotherhood
    By Jason Hartzell

    In the wake of turmoil,
    We set off in calm of the night.
    Where I am still remains quiet,
    But we set off to a horrid site.

    We graduated from high school in June of 2001,
    Friends who have had many of good times.
    Who would of known in four months,
    We’d be making this drive.

    Not knowing what lies ahead,
    The anticipation grows.
    The farther we drive,
    The closer we get to the unknown.

    As we approach the city a chill strikes.
    The destruction lingers over the skyline.
    A cloud of smoke and dust towers above,
    Our first glimpse of what is to come.

    We enter the tunnel leading to the front lines,
    Once young boys about to become men.
    At the end of the tunnel we enter our battle,
    A war without an enemy to face.

    As we walk in the shadows of the buildings,
    An eerie sense of darkness be stills upon us.
    Still we continue side by side,
    Walking in the wake of New York’s destruction.

    A symbol of our countries virtues,
    Lies in a mountain of ruins.
    The city’s great buildings,
    Now left only as a tomb.

    We begin our work at the site,
    Searching the rubble in the silence of hundreds.
    The dust stings in our eyes,
    And burdens every gasp we breath.

    With every victims body we recover,
    We have a new face burned our memory.
    Somebody’s Son or Daughter,
    Someone’s Mother or Father.

    The work is difficult and tiring,
    After a while our muscles begin to ache.
    Our work here is done,
    We have done our part.

    Holding our dusty helmets at our side,
    We begin our walk out.
    When we began our journey we were friends,
    Now I can see we are more then that…
    Brothers Forever.

    (and yes for those of you who were wondering i was one of the youngest up there, im 18 yr old college student in Safety Sciences for those of you wondering)

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