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I can`t believe you`re gone
I can`t believe you died that day
I can`t believe there is no us
I can`t believe your wondrous eyes
Were martyred to an unknown cause
You; mixed with steel and dust
For all the world to see
You; crushed
Your spirit flung
So unprepared
In screaming shock
At such sudden unplanned exit

I can`t believe in justice
I can`t believe in law
I can`t believe in wisdom
I can`t believe I saw you die
In constant searing replay
Aboard a plane
That ripped a million souls
A Christian’s ticket
To the roman games
Witness to the devouring
Of my anguished soul

I can believe in vengeance
I can believe in anger
I can believe in hate
I can believe that forces
Who trample others rights
To defend their need to slake
Their thirst for power
At the cost of lives like yours
Must pay the price of death

I must believe in caring
I must believe in love
I must believe in sharing
I must believe that pain
Is the searing road to peace
If I can only find the path
To make some sense
Of all this emptiness I feel
To find the diamond that was you
Crushed to carbon once again

Can I live to see your grave
Can I live to change myself
Can I live to make this happen
Can I live to be alone again
Without the loving that was you.
To find completeness
In the shards
Of loving yesterdays
To become whole
In some other unknown way

I must

For you

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
I wrote this just after the World Trade Fair desaster.
Editing stage: 


Its a lovely tribute to those that perished, though I am not sure about the repetition in the beginning of each stanza it seemed to have a different rhythm than the rest of the stanza's and it seemed to interupt the flow, now it maybe just me that isnt getting it, wait and see what others say on the whole the poem held a quiet quality of sadness

I hope I was of some use

Sincerely Jayne-Chloe

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

This was written in one burst and with little if any conscious forethought. The construction you point out was not deliberate; it simply flowed. I truly appreciate your second set of eyes on this work for that reason. I can't seem to self edit this one.

Thanks again,


My mind's writing cheques my body can't cash.

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