What time I fell asleep, I cannot remember, unwittingly I read
however late at night, past dawn into morning, after my girlfriend left
apparently, I slept until past noon, missing the phone calls of panic
that my girlfriend left me, an accident happened, a slight fender bender
though I slept through it all and woke up much later, got dressed and drove to work
in the car, I listened to a CD, music, totally unaware
maybe I would have felt differently, the full shock hit me once I arrived
even at the bookstore, now eerily quiet except a radio
I knew not what happened that morning as I slept but everyone else knew
feeling so out of place, the bookstore like a dream became a memory
entering the bookstore, my general manager took me aside and spoke
little I understood but I was studying about the Taliban
left to do whatever, to our own devices, we spent the day online
as the rest of the world experienced that day feeling strange emotions
sorrow, anger, terror, the impossible truth of what could not take place
languish in the cauldron of suffering and tears we call this melting pot
even though I was born outside of this country, I was a citizen
even though I was sad and did not understand, my life was in question
partly because I was of South Asian descent and looked like the others
I am an Indian but not a terrorist but my black beard was thick
casting aspersions on my character, my life was put into question
always affirm the truth of the philosophy of the soul in anguish
never had I known then the need to represent the goodness of our lives
never had I witnessed history before me, my eyes and my body
only my mind remains aware of the sorrow of those touched by that day
to say everyone was affected equally is to mistake the facts
remember the living and the departed souls, once flesh and blood and bone
even metaphysics cannot explain these acts of defiance against
memory, eulogy, and the hope to return to embrace the missing
even decades of war cannot bring back the dead but suffer the children
maybe they will not know that day firsthand, too young, or not even born, yet
but feelings transcend time, the absence is still felt, even from a photo
even though the children were not able to meet the absent, missing souls
remember strange feelings of trauma and sorrow create new memories
under the weight of light we observe the absence of what could not take place
never forget this day as we read history overwhelmed by events
witness what in your heart affirms the lives of those absent, missing and lost
in this world, we suffer the consequences of acts of violence, tears
trauma is physical, emotional and burned deeply into spirit
terror feeds violence but the tears of sorrow overcome the anguish
in this life, we do not all experience pain with similar effects
none are impervious to the impossible opening up the sky
granting the souls access but not justice in death, not to be forgotten
little I remember of that day while at work in the bookstore of dreams
yet, I am always there caught on a loop in time like others as a ghost
I'm sorry for your loss, it's not my place to say, but my condolences
remember to practice what is deep in your heart, commemorate this day
even though, I woke up late, later than others, I woke up to this day
after she, my girlfriend, got home, I found trouble not answering my phone
despite this, we married, fell in love, fell apart, divorce is our sorrow
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