But tiring, tiring.
Sirens below are wailing, firing.
My arm is numb and my nerves are sagging.
Do you see me, my love. I am failing, flagging.
Six Hours Earlier
As i gaze out of the window, i see a bird passing by, thinking to myself, what a beautiful morning it really is in New York City. My first order of business was to have a nutritious breakfast which turned out to be Weetabix and Coffee as a nice compliment to the day ahead, I then needed to get dressed, so i picked my most bland shirt which happened to be made out of cotton and a pair of black trousers to, when i finished dressing myself, i said goodbye to my 2 children, one a girl and the other a boy, they were both only 5 years old. On my way to work i was intrigued by the amount of pigeons i saw which proved to me that they were coming into their own and taking over the city in some way, but I’m probably over thinking it much more then i should. I was also surprised with the amount of people who were wearing white cotton shirts which was less intriguing with the birds, but again i’m probably over thinking the situation ten times more then i should, Again. I’am saw that i worry way too much in life and i should really get seen to about it but i haven’t got the time to do as i’am always busy with my 2 children and job as a trader in the world trade center.
As I sat at my Grande Office desk i read the morning paper with it’s article on a major Islamic Terrorist Corporation called Al-Queda was growing quickly with Osama bin Leiden as the leader of the group which turned quite a nice day into hours of thought on what would happen if they were to attack today. As i was working in my office desk i saw the same bird passing by thinking it was a coincidence, I mean seriously its just a pigeon flying in the sky. After this happened i saw a plane flying towards us while i writing down some of my key thoughts of the day which turned out to start quite a nice poem, You have picked me out Through a distant shot of a building burning
you have noticed now that a white cotton shirt is twirling, turning. but as i read this the plane is getting closer and closer and before i could think the plane crashed in the building and i was left for dead until a speak of me could get up and finish writing to account my events as i would of seen it before my inevitable death but before this i was to say goodbye to my family, One last time, so i called my wife’s number 123-234-234 was the number keep it as you will, In ten years this probably wont be in service anymore so your welcome, After i spoke to her and my kids i wrote on creating stanzas such as So when will you come? Do you think you are watching, watching a man shaking crumbs or pegging out washing? which went back to my inevitable death which i must face in life as i finished the poem with the final line Do you see me, my love. I am failing, flagging. i saw a plane and knew i had to face it so i stood in front of the plain glass windows and shouted ” Do you see me know, God I’am truly failing, Flagging. (To Be Continued)
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