Reflections On Nine Eleven Poem by B. V. Dahlen

Within me sits a fearful mass
that seems to grow each day.
Metallic flavors poise there, on
my tongue, and plan to stay.

A pensive, panicked atmosphere
pervades my waking hours,
and agonizing nightmares flaunt
those two dissolving towers.

This morbid anniversary plays
upon my stricken soul.
A worldwide situation whirls,
and spins out of control.

I try to dwell on lighter thoughts
to scatter dreams of doom,
but overwhelming details crowd
my brain, and leave no room

for pleasant thoughts and restful dreams.
Depression drives my days.
'Why bother' seems an apt response
to life and it’s clichés.

Are these the 'End Times' that we face.
Has man made God irate
by using Him to justify
our bigotry and hate.

I want a world where we can see
the diamonds in the rough,
a world of brotherhood and peace,
but wanting’s not enough.