Towers of Two poem
We burn flags and pictures, not Holy books:
Always embedded in your memory
Ash and smoke you may have never felt
The taste of bitter tears
You now understand the full meaning
Of Hate
Ignorance of the power of
Devastation.
Grief unites even the indifferent
Numbers aren’t statistics to
Them. They are trophies.
Myriad of stars
Tainted stripes
The blinded feel it’s
Breeze. The weary
Know of it’s strength.
Cowards. Terrorists.
Biblical approach.
Prejudice against themselves.
They meant to tear us
Apart.
More than twins did
Burn that day.
The eleventh of September. Second
Year of the Twenty-first.
A book also burned.
It is a Holy book.
It’s scripture revered by few.
As America was shadowed in black and thorn
The Quran was too.
Divided we fell.
Together we stood.
One for one.
All for all.
We understand forgiveness.
If we turn our back on
Our own people. Muslim,
Christian, Jew. We become
The terrorists they were never
Fighting for.
We are becoming the spark that burns
Anothers towers of two.
-Bronte Schmidt
Always embedded in your memory
Ash and smoke you may have never felt
The taste of bitter tears
You now understand the full meaning
Of Hate
Ignorance of the power of
Devastation.
Grief unites even the indifferent
Numbers aren’t statistics to
Them. They are trophies.
Myriad of stars
Tainted stripes
The blinded feel it’s
Breeze. The weary
Know of it’s strength.
Cowards. Terrorists.
Biblical approach.
Prejudice against themselves.
They meant to tear us
Apart.
More than twins did
Burn that day.
The eleventh of September. Second
Year of the Twenty-first.
A book also burned.
It is a Holy book.
It’s scripture revered by few.
As America was shadowed in black and thorn
The Quran was too.
Divided we fell.
Together we stood.
One for one.
All for all.
We understand forgiveness.
If we turn our back on
Our own people. Muslim,
Christian, Jew. We become
The terrorists they were never
Fighting for.
We are becoming the spark that burns
Anothers towers of two.
-Bronte Schmidt