As most of us stopped, to see the fire in the sky,
You were in the trucks, passing us by.
As the unthinkable horror, makes us shed a tear,
You entered the building, in your rescue gear.
As we sat in panic, praying for no more,
You were climbing stairs, floor by floor.
We sat confused, awed, and in strife,
You were looking, hoping, praying for life.
As the building came down, we feared you would to,
But god gave you wings that day, and instead you flew.
Poem by: Emily Dickenson