Where were you on 9/11?

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Where were you on 9/11?
For me, I was in a classroom.
Full-day kindergarten.
When the planes hit the towers,
I was having fun with my friends.
I had no idea at all
that anything was wrong.
Not until school ended,
and my mom took me home,
and said something bad had happened.
Since the danger was so far away,
I didn't fully comprehend
what a disaster this was.
I was too young.
Now, I understand completely
what happened on that day
exactly 10 years ago.
The tragedy, death, and destruction,
the shock, fear, and disbelief.
I was not there, but I remember
all the innocent lives taken,
but also the heroes who stood,
and I thank them
for their service and bravery.
God bless you.
"The difficulty of literature is not to write, but to write what you mean." -Robert Louis Stevenson
"Write or die trying."
JA hatar pisanje.




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Hey there ;
Like you, I was in kindergarten when the 9/11 took place. For this reason, I can relate entirely to your poem.
It is well written, honest, and to the point.
Keep Writing :)
-Briggsy
but the sky is love and i am for you
just so long and long enough
-E.E. Cummings




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I completely feel you on this one, I was in first grade though and they sent us home. For the next week and a half I slept in my dad's I <3 New York shirt and wore a plastic fireman's hat around, but I didnt really get what happened, not till i was older.
Flightplan 49




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I can totally relate to this, really. I was very small when this happened, and my mom was taking me to school. I don't think I even realized what it meant, not until now. I still have no clue how they felt, none of us really do. And I think your poem captures just that!!!




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Like a lot of other people, I was in kindergarten and my mom came to take me home early. I remember thinking I was the luckiest person in the world and I don't think I really found out what happened for years after that. It's sad really, that so many people's clearest memories of kindergarten or 1st grade are September 11th.
As for the poem itself, I don't think anyone is qualified to critique something like it. It's both moving an undeniably true, about a terrible event that this generation will always remember. I love it.
"The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated."
-Mark Twain




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I was at home, mm had just made me lunch, I live miles away from America, I live in Europe, and I still feel heartbroken about 9/11, I was not affected by it at all, but still I curse those who did what they did for doing it, I don't know why, I just do
The last person to mess with me and my tigerness lost his face...and his COOKIES!




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I was four years old. This is one of the things that truly make me feel horrible because I did not know about 9/11 until I was in 5th grade. When I was in 4th grade my dad said something about the twin towers crashing but I didn't know that the twin towers existed and, well, do young children ever really listen to their parents? That was the year my little sister was born. I asked my mother what we were doing and she said we were calmly having breakfast and then she saw it in all the channels and it did not register. When she realized what happened she called my dad, panicking, because she did not know if they had reached Puerto Rico, which is where we lived at the time. So I respect your poem and really liked it. There was a lot of shock. And so many lives taken. Very nice job on the poem.
"Everybody stares, as she goes by
'Cause they can see the
flame that's in her eyes
Watch her when she's lighting up the night
Nobody knows that she's a lonely girl
And it's a lonely world
But she gon' let it burn
, baby,burn,baby"




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Wow, I feel old. I was in the 7th grade when it happened. I cringed every time I saw a plane fly overhead. I had classmates who were building towers with math blocks and knocking them down. I remember the terror of that day. I had come down from my room that morning, and I saw my mom standing in front of the TV with her hand over her mouth. We both watched as the second plane hit.

As for an actual review... I feel like there isn't much poetry here. Don't get me wrong, it's a good story. But there's little attempt at imagery, and it doesn't flow very well. This would work better as an essay or short story. If you still want to keep this as a poem, I suggest trying to put the reader in your position. What did you see and hear that day? What did you feel? It's hard to answer those questions if you were so young, but you could try.
Love and Light




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You are not alone Crysi. I was 11 and in the sixth grade. I was also at school that day and I remember a student of another grade come in, face ashen, whispering to my teacher. She frantically rushed the student outside to get a T.V.

Just as she switched it on we saw the second plane fly into the second tower. I fully understood then why that students face was so pale. I could feel the blood rapidly drain from my face too.

I'm a South African and even though I might have been far from danger it didn't mean I didn't feel the terror and despair. My sister's birthday is on the 11th of September and on that day we weren't much in the mood to do any celebrating.

As for the poem, I have no critique because I feel that it is so personal. But I also have to agree that this fits more into the genre of a short story.
True knowledge is knowing you know nothing at all _ Socrates.



I was flummoxed by fractious Franny's decision to abrogate analgesics for the moribund victims of the recent conflagration. Of course, to display histrionics was discretionary, but I did so anyways, implicating a friend in my drama to make the effect cumulative. I think a misanthrope would have a prosaic appellation, perhaps one related to autonomy and the rejection of anthropocentrism. I think they wouldn't think much of the prominence of watching the coagulation of tea to prognosticate future malevolent events, not even if those events were related to jurisprudence.
— Spearmint