A Poem By Cheryl Srnka

10 years later.............   Watching the live broadcast of the horror of a decade ago as names of the fallen go on and on and on, I remember what I was doing on that September morn.   Bleary eyed before my first cup of coffee because I overslept T.V. turned on, volume turned down speaking to a friend on the phone. My back,to the horror going on.   My friend said"Oh my God, a plane just went through a tower at the world trade center!" I turn around and I thought; how amazing what Hollywood could do with their effects, till I watched the second plane fly through the other tower.   No need for coffee now as I turn up the volume, to hear if it's fiction or real. I told my friend I'd call her soon, still staring; surreal.   After the shock, I grew angry as I felt the world shift from the loss.   We took for granted, let our guard down, pompous assumption that we thought; that our enemies could enter unnoticed or could ever set up, much less follow through, with this kind of plot.   Ten years later on the anniversary that no one has the right to forget, so many lost at a useless cost after so much aid had been given; from a nation who's help was always there when they needed us most, backfired when our generosity bit us in the ass.   What we should do is call in our markers, start sending out the bills to those we've aided to help pay, for OUR devastating loss.   Let's start taking care of our own (Americans) and wait until we, the people regain our strength, before we help anyone again.   Let's bring home all our troupes, let the other countries do as they wish. They're killing each other without our help, and they can go to hell.   But the good people there who wish to have what we own, will gather their strength with the freedom we left so they can grow strong and right the wrongs of what their country has done.   But we will never forget the infamous date as the world felt each and every loss, of flight 93, the pentagon, and the twin towers of New York on September 11, 2001.   Written by Cheryl Srnka/North Port Poetry Group