The falling ash and falling glass.
The shrills of sirens and horns.
The blood and tears.
Over the years, have faded away.
The sirens and horns are and echo.
The blood and tears have washed away.
In what stood for being magestic.
Is now, and imprint of absence.
A memorial in an empty field.
Benches in front of the pentagon.
Chlidren, Mothers, and Dads with lost loved ones.
Names of the perished engraved in metal.
Nearly 3,000 souls are gone.
Along with 3,000 memories.
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