I was five when I learned what terror was. It was the image of two tall buildings drowning in fire and debris, crumbling to the ground. I had just got off of school, still in my white and navy blue uniform, when I stood by my parents' door and watched the television weep as terror… Continue reading I Was Five… (Remembering 9/11)
I recently thought about a traumatic experience in 5th grade when they found a dead body in the cafeteria vent. So I wrote this poem about it. This is like an untold narrative about him. It also sort of is a story of lots of people in my neighborhood. Fortunately, I was a survivor of penury. But, the soul of the story was a victim.