I draw nearer to the candle,
My tears extinguishing its delicate flame.
My heart is heavy
With the burden of surviving.
One question always on my mind.
Why wasn't I there in time?
They tell me I'm the lucky one,
But I think they are wrong.
Luck is a relative term,
Looking into your fallen brother's eyes.
The flag still flies next to me,
Where we placed it that day.
A stark reminder to the world,
America – the strong – the brave.
My brothers' souls are here,
Beneath the pile at my feet.
As we pull them free, I pray
Please God, hold them close as they sleep.
Patty Schramm
© 1/19/02
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