There once were two towers
That stood over the world,
Their trade had power,
With money that whirled,
All over the world,
With peace,
And trade,
And where deals were made,
It stopped,
On the date of September 11.
From another place,
The terrorists came,
Setting up their two planes.
The first one hit,
The second one followed,
Killing themselves,
Just to cause sorrow.
The people stuck above,
Were trapped with flame,
Many jumped out,
Straight into death’s mouth,
But was it better,
Than being caught in the flame?
The people below,
Tried to get down,
Even though,
It wasn’t safe on the ground.
When some were out,
The first building fell,
And so did the second,
Causing smoke,
Death,
Makeshift hell.
The people watching,
Ran as fast as they could,
But many were doomed.
The smoke pursued them,
Through city streets,
Most escaped,
But some were lost,
With their life at the cost.
Finally, it was all over,
Though many people had died.
We still survived.
There once were two towers,
But only one was rebuilt,
And it stands over the world.
Yash menon 