Fallen Tower
This poem describes how my family fell apart, how each and every one of us is a part of the bigger picture.
My family is a fallen tower, broken by a terrorist's bomb.
Mom is the left over beams that still stand.
Dad is the crumbling walls, falling down to someone else.
Sister is the buried desks and chairs, hiding from life.
Brother is the gently flowing smoke, floating without a care.
Baby is the falling, charred documents, confused and unsure.
I am the silent, collapsing roof, trying to hold without a chance.
My family is a fallen tower, broken by a terrorist's bomb.
Mom is the left over beams that still stand.
Dad is the crumbling walls, falling down to someone else.
Sister is the buried desks and chairs, hiding from life.
Brother is the gently flowing smoke, floating without a care.
Baby is the falling, charred documents, confused and unsure.
I am the silent, collapsing roof, trying to hold without a chance.
My family is a fallen tower, broken by a terrorist's bomb.
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