I’ll never see “the towers” standing tall,

By Gus Bode

And I may never know them at all.

But I’ll hear the sorrow every year that it comes

And the old folks retell the telling of what happened on this day,


But does it matter?

Years from now will we still recall it all?

Will this be marked in the history books?

Recalled as the start of a never-ending war

What will the future say about 9-11?

What matters is the fact that loved ones are no longer here,

With fathers lost to children that they and them will never know.


What matters is the silent void that someone once filled with laughter.

What matters is they are gone.

No amount of bloodshed will bring them back.

No amount of tears, words said in hate, political action, money,

Nothing can bring them back.

If it could they’d be here by now.

And maybe they’re here and cannot go until

We note that we don’t need them to hate.

Nine-elevens will come and go,

And so shall those who loved the ones who were lost,

Only to reunite with them on a distant shore.

So shall it be, but let’s not be Electra and mourn them all our years.

For we are the living and we must live; it is our duty.

For if we don’t, what will we have to say to the dead when we get there?

By Sarah Luthy, a sophomore in English from Willisville.