Poetry

Towers

The quiet grips my eyes outside
The screeching sound of silence fills the air heavy with sorrow
Over our heads, the facts pushes our necks down
Dripping our chins down to our knees
I look up and tear my eyes to the T.V
Where Towers of metal from a fragmented building collapse
Mouths open, ready to scream at shocked expressions
My dad turns down the T.V
The presenters voice rattles in the background
And our souls shake with it
The unnatural sounds of nature rising paints away the disaster occurring in a man-made world
Droplets of singing birds cascade down into our ear drums
Rustling leaves wet with tears from the clouds begin to meditate softly in the background
And yet, the stillness of the sky dumbfounds us
Pieces of winged shaped metal no longer soaring between the clouds
Creating an eerie silence for man
Allowing a bracket of natures music to be overheard in the distance

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