The MourningA Poem by Rena BeauI wrote this poem several years ago, shortly after 9/11, so, please, don't brutalize it due to the fact it was written by a silly middle-schooler. She wasn't that silly.I remember school that morning, of September eleventh, two-thousand one. I remember the tears on a teacher's face as she realized, mother has died. My mother was practically there, when the second plane attacked. Now we have sent out men, to go and bomb Iraq. I can't possibly imagine the burden young ones much feel, when they begin to realize why hasn't daddy appeared? There are those who still mourn everyday, the pain is slowly starting to fade away. This day will still be alive, in their mind's eye. as I sit here and think I realize, America thrives on its pride. We've gotten through this with no countries' help, they all sat there like they were kelp. I remember coming home that night, to find no one was in sight. I cried out and began to pray, as you, the Iraqis, acted like this, was some sort of parade. Then out ran my brother as I thanked God it wasn't me, but what about the ones whose pain will never ease? Let's see you try this again while we're waiting, we're ready to start fighting. Maybe youre jealous, because we're home of the free. Because of you the mourning won't end. We will stand and fight for our cuntry, until the end. © 2008 Rena BeauAuthor's Note
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2 Reviews Added on March 31, 2008 AuthorRena BeauVirginia Beach, VAAboutMy name's Serenity Beausejour, Rena Beau's just so much simpler for the general public. I love reading, love writing more. I'm nineteen, and I am a happily taken (no, not by the father) teen mom, bu.. more..Writing
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