Off Starbort's Bow

A poem that was written after 9-11. Just never put it up till now

Embarked she heads to no man's land,
the ocean embraces her with strong hands.
No more will the passangers weep or cry,
the dry faces staring at the lit sky.
Save one lone tear that drops to the floor,
in rememberence of the the twins towers that fell.
And to those on the plane,
we wished you a happy vogage filled hugs and cheers.
Clapping can be heard of the starbort bow,
from the crowds that gathered to say good-bye.
Hold your hand up little girl
and wave it good-bye.
And don't worry you'll see him again
when the heavens open up and he'll opens his arms.
We'll all be together again.