I once  was a beautiful tower, one of the tallest in New York.

I used to watch over my people and my city. 

Now I am worthless scattered on the ground. 

I cry every night, feeling bad for those who have died. 

If only the world could have seen through my eyes. 

There is one question that lies in my mind,

that I seem to ponder from time to time. 

Is it my fault that these people died? 

Is it my fault that their families cry? 

This is MY view on how that day went. 

On September 11th how MY time was spent. 

I thought I could take it, the plane through my heart,

but I didn't make it I fell right apart. 

I coughed and I sputtered to get the smoke out,

but it was no use it was one thick black cloud. 

The smoke rolled in thicker as my friend hit the ground. 

He made a noise that shook the town. 

I stood there alone and cried for help. 

You cant even imagine the pain that I felt.

 My beams gave way and I lost my support,

I couldn't believe someone did this for sport!

I came to the ground with a heavy smash.

I will never forget that one last crash. 

I took people with me when I went down,

just then I felt like the saddest in town. 

So I am sorry my city, I cry for you.

Someday, again I will be big and strong. 

So wait till then, it won't be long.