The Day I Do Not Remember

This is a creative piece I wrote a few days ago… I thought it would be appropriate to post, especially in light of the current situation in the Middle East.

The Day I Do Not Remember

So many fell

On the day I do not remember

They were people but to me

They might as well be bricks and mortar

With some cutting glass edges dulled over by time

As they fell they were crumbling

Glass now opaque

Was as clean as chaos then

As it cut their palms

Stung their eyes

They choked on the dust

Of their own dusted mortar

And streaks of blood became trails of tears

Suspended in the air with the ash

To this day there is only broken brick

And the occasional shard

To mark the day I do not remember

There may be monuments

The kind to remember names

But all the monument does is display

Magnitude, how many bricks fell down at once

No attention to each

Forgetting the fingernail crescents

Etched inside each fist

The broken windows that cut

Deeper than the telephone wires

With no one on the other end

The memorial is made of stone

Thus the names are stone as well

And the day I do not remember

Can be nothing more to me than bricks.

 

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