A poem from merme my granddaughter I'm so proud.

[Raulandpinboy]

Nine One - One
Heather Staton
English II Hon.- per. 2
September 11, 2001

911 is the number we call,
But nine one-one is the day we fall.
The World Trade Towers, straight and proud,
All life was destroyed within a dust cloud.
The mourning of many reaches our ears,
While American eyes fill up with tears.
We look to our president to see us through,
His eyes see the destruction of red, white and blue.
"God bless America!" cries from the coast,
Touching the hearts that need it the most.
Peace to those who now die,
As tear-streaked faces look up to the sky.
Cowardly violence has left its mark,
Now many a soul for heaven disembark.
Sympathy to those who now rest,
And to the Americans that did their best.


You all can see she get her artistic talent from me tee hee

 

[GotAnyPins]

Heather wrote this 9-11, and turned it in the next day for English, but her teacher said, no way, I want this to be seen by my friend in New York, they need it....

Heather is 14, and it is amazing that our kids can show this feeling, maybe there is hope for our future..our children continue to surprise us..

enjoy

 

[karinmac]

What a wonderful poem! I'm going to print it and share it with my coworkers.

 

[Luv2Roam]

Very good!

 

[goofymom/pop]

tell her we love the poem.....

cindy

 

[ismetoo]

Heather is our creative genius in the family. When she and Crystal (oneohone) got to school on Tuesday, they suspended classes and turned on the news. They saw the Trade Towers get hit. AND, they saw the plane crash into the Pentagon, quite by accident. Most folks don't know they actually had it on the news. The tale the girls tell of why the news won't replay the Penatgon attack is revolting. It breaks my heart that my girls saw this.

We, like most everyone else in the world, sat shell-shocked and riveted in front of the news all day and all night on Tuesday. After a dinner that was left mostly uneaten, Heather came barreling out of room demanding an available computer. That, in itself, was not a big deal as Heather is prone to creative outbursts where she'll give you the impression that she'll just implode is she doesn't write or draw RIGHT THEN.

I gave her my laptop and she began typing in earnest. A half hour or so, she asked me to come see what she wrote to "see if it was ok". I has to walk away after I read it so she wouldn't see how shaken and moved I was.

She was in so much pain after what she'd seen that day - hurting so for everybody. She hoped that she could provide some small amount of peace by writing down how she felt. I still can't think about it without welling up. God bless Heather and the small miracles and silver linings that come from such a tragedy. We are all VERY proud of her.