Fateful Morn (By Jennifer Martin)
A nation cried that fateful morn,
innocence shattered, families torn.
Random terror ripped apart,
a nation’s calm, a country’s heart.
But in the grief, a rallying cry,
to stand united, heads held high.
In awkward silence, we take a stance,
a new beginning, a second chance.
But still to come, the truer test,
beyond the pain, our souls at rest.
Will our people stand as one,
when the fighting has been done?
Tenuous unity, will it last?
Can we avoid our racist past?
Bitter hatreds set aside,
borne of ignorance and pride.
Will we take our brother’s hand
and represent this precious land?
Stand together, Black and White,
looking neither left nor right.
Caring not, our sister’s creed,
focused on a common need.
Tenacious freedom, our past foretold,
as one, this gift, we must uphold.
Precarious peace, tragically shaken,
but America’s spirit, never forsaken.