I never told anyone how much I
Tired of September. I never wanted
To stop living and no one consulted
Me about it. Buildings fell and I
Was suddenly un-American. But I
Already was. People wept and pointed
Fingers; held benefit concerts and waged wars.
I retired to my bedroom and thought about
I thought about not writing it
Down that day, but five or six
Years later. By then, more of me
Will have risen to show their
Indifference; such a powerful emotion.
When the dust settles and the flags
Stop waving and the celebrities
Stop singing. When the body count is
Finally tallied and the money is spent
And we’re not distracted any longer.
I will have written this poem and it won’t
Be considered distasteful and insensitive.
I tire of September like you’ll
Never know. I’ve wanted to tell
You for so long. I still want to live.
We never had to stop.