Remembering

I wanted to share with everyone a poem I wrote 9 years ago- but as the poem is 9 years old I don't know where it is. Instead, I've written a new poem for you all. I hope you enjoy it.

I awoke just like a normal day,
my 8th grade self getting ready,
going to see my friends in the morning.
To me it was nothing but my
brother's birthday,
a day to see the world as it was.
I don't remember what my first class was
that day.
Not anymore.
But I remember the principal
coming on the speaker
telling teachers they may want to
turn the TV on.
I was ironically in
History class,
as my teacher Mr. Earhart
turned the TV on to a fuzzy channel.
I remember seeing a tall building,
barely making out the image,
a bit of smoke coming out of it.
Mr. Earhart said "Oh-
one of the twin towers is on fire."
Stared at the TV for a minute and then
turned it off
and went on with class.
My next class was gym,
as we did the annual fitness test
a TV set up in the room
showed us images of the buildings.
I remember standing around with two
others
talking about what was going on.
I don't remember who they were.
I only remember them saying one of the
towers fell
and my response being something like
"What? No they didn't."
I heard nothing else until later in the day,
after lunch.
No one was explaining it,
exactly.
I barely understood
the impact
as adults watched in fear,
in solace
and in remorse.
I remember watching
as the TV showed the images of
Osama Bin Laden
talking about the incident.
I couldn't understand what was being said,
over the static on the TV and the Arabic language
I had little knowledge of prior.
When I got home from school
my mom and brother were watching it on TV.
I sat down to watch with them, wanting to know
what happened since I had last seen.
I knew by then planes had
hit the towers,
the towers had fallen,
and more and more questions were being
asked
and then answered-
be it incorrectly or not.
I remember being so caught up,
that I forgot it was my own brother's
birthday.
I remember that after awhile
I walked up to a basketball court
and shot some hoops.
A friend of mine then-
who was older-
came out and talked with me.
I don't remember his name
or what he said.
There were very few times
I saw him after that talk.
It's the last thing I remember
from that day.
I don't remember
going to bed.
I don't remember much else,
anymore,
and though I may have written
a journal then,
it's been lost.
That day I didn't know
what the
World Trade Center was.
I didn't know what the
Pentagon was.
I never thought about
terrorism,
as I was too young
during Oklahoma City.
I wrote about it,
though,
and I never thought the world
would change so much.

That day I lost a bit of my
childhood.
That day we all grew up a bit,
as young as we were.
I think about it now and realize
that all the college freshman
were only 9 years old.
My brother was turning 5,
that day.

How far we've come,
in such a different world.