This poem was put in the guestbook. I have reproduced it here.

The “Big Apple,” robbed of its core
Lauren D. Mendenhall
CDT PVT Mendenhall '05

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
once more the murderous cycle spins round,
noone knows the stopping point,
or who this hand will next anoint,
but somewhere in those blissful skies,
through the smoke and ash, an angel cries,
songs of peace and songs of hope,
may this world no longer grope,
no more reaching for the throat,
no more hero or the goat,
just a man, and his simple song,
to bring a wealth of peace all day long...

But as always done we shudder and cry,
as our hopes and dreams and loved ones die,
the hands below that lift us up,
always spring a leak when they cup,
it hurts so bad to hear the sound,
of my children crying as they litter the ground,
the cheers of those who revel in the mourning,
beware of my flag that covers without warning,
your time and days we measure with ease,
one swipe and your existence is one with the breeze,
forgotten amiss the strangling sound,
of your family and your people dying all around...

To those who have lost, it has happened before,
but we still don't like it when someone opens that door,
the pain in the world, brings the tears in my eyes,
may your eardrums burst, with the fear in their cries,
I know that it hurts when anyone dies,
you can tell in Oklahoma, by the tears from the skies,
they water the fields, which in turn feed the masses,
so the people harvest the death, which in turn feeds their sorrow,
longing for the chance to not see the morrow,
to dance and sing with the ones that they love,
who have been oh so mistakenly placed far above,
higher than the reaches of love's lonely screams,
higher than the happiness reserved only for dreams.

But to those in Heaven now looking down below,
smile for those whose smiles no longer glow,
your time is passed you by like the oceans pass the sand,
but in turn you are taken off to a better land,
a place where the sorrows of the hurting rival silence,
but mostly, a world based on the absence of violence.

Pray for those who haven't been found, and for those who wont be found.

West Point, NY USA - Friday, September 14, 2001 at 22:33:21