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To whomever reads this,
My name is Christopher A. Burgos and I am a native New
Yorker. On the day of the terrible attacks, my life was forever
altered. Not only in how what happened changed America, but also in
how I look at life in general. I've pretty much gone from a
thick-skinned, quite abrupt individual to one who really appreciates
and relishes other people's feelings and lives. It's strange how a
tragedy can change someone for the better.
On the day of the attacks I was at work, teaching in a
culinary school. The school is situated on W. 14th St., in Manhattan,
and that also happens to be the street I live on. So, you can imagine
the sights I've experienced. It's been very hard. I started writing
e-letters to all my loved ones, but I've somehow managed to lose them.
I'm not really adept at this computer stuff and I think one of my
friends has been able to retrieve them, so I will probably get them
back.
I am writing now because I wrote a poem about the
attacks. I actually made copies of it and posted it all around lower
Manhattan. I hope it inspires you.
Thanx!
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? (or "Spineless") A coward left his calling card.
The soul of the world is shaken,
hard.
Countless lives, all awaste,
Terrorism leaving its bitter taste.
Where's the enemy, who's to blame?
What are the rules of this bloody
game?
Questions pile, like so much
rubble.
Our fragile safety in deep trouble.
So what now? Who is next?
Look around, stand perplexed.
When does all this madness end?
Against which monster do we defend?
Why did this happen? How come now?
Our heads, in prayer, we must bow.
And pray that the world will see
the light,
To rid ourselves of this horrific
plight.
by Burgos rudefood@msn.com
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