• I watched them die.
    I watched the bus lift off the ground.
    And you never heard a more horriffic sound,
    then the screams of three little girls.

    I watched as the skies turned black and grey.
    I held Katie, as her life faded away.
    I tried to help her, she was my sister.
    And now, I can't help but miss her.
    Jackie, my old friend, burned in the fire.
    While Rosie, my delicate flower,
    Survived the bomb, but died so very sour.
    See, she was hurt under a part of the roof,
    But she was alive, but they left her too long.
    So there, she cried a sad song.
    I couldn't find her, before she died.
    I couldn't find her in time,
    I couldn't see her before her time.

    I watched as they took my three best friends away.
    While only yesterday,
    It was a sunny, bright, hopeful day.
    I watched as other people started to cry.
    While I;
    I couldn't feel anything.
    Not my hand, which was bloodied, sore and useless.
    Not my back, flilled with glass and cut and a mess.
    Not my face, chapped with the cold, warm with the fire.
    Not my heart, under the scars on my then budding breasts.
    Not anything.

    I watched the media come into the city.
    I watched the plastic woman ask me questions about the bus.
    I watched the overdressed man tell the viewers about the trains.
    (Who knew that the underground could get so hot?)
    I watched the public lay flowers.
    I watched myself whisper into the city-twilight, goodbye.