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.
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.
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.
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