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The pain,
The sorrow,
The crying,
And the tears.

The grieving,
The mourning,
The hope,
And the fears.

The yelling,
The fighting,
The talking,
And the sharing.

The sobbing,
The singing,
The hugging,
And the caring.

The calmness,
The stillness,
The motionless,
And the weeping.

The morning,
The evening,
The day,
And the night.

The ending,
The beginning,
The sighing,
And the hoping.

The praying,
The reading,
The kneeling,
And the walking.

The wounded,
The hurting,
The bleeding,
And the dying.

The deep,
The narrow,
The calm,
And the loud.

The noise,
The quiet,
The sadness,
And the gladness.

No gladness,
No tears,
No laughter,
But big fears.

All pain,
All grief,
All crying,
All mourning.

Now done,
Now finished,
Now gone,
Now gone.

Everything is done,
Everything is finished,
Everything is gone,
All but hope.

Hope remains,
In hearts,
In minds,
In souls.

Give God the glory
That is due
For our hope lies
Within him alone.

This poem was written the day of Sept. 11th after a chapel service on two green pieces of paper. It was the first thing that came out of the events for me.