Poetry of the moment: Friendship and common cause on September 11th

The Following is an excerpt from chapter 2 of the September 11th Epic Poem. The rough draft was written between June 2008 and May 2010. It is 2,000 lines long and has 1,499 rhyming pairs.

 
“My God, the sight; my brother’s plight!”
            yelled someone with his head.
The tower burned and people yearned
            To know if friends were dead.
For those come down from out of town
            It almost made them ill,
And those who cried for kin inside 
            Could barely look at will.
 
As moments passed the humans massed
            In groups of four or five.
They did not care who else was there,
            Just glad to be alive.
The greater creed of instant need
            Compelled them to be friends,
Whose goings through became the glue
            That joined unlikely ends.
 
They shared their hugs and friendly shrugs
            When words could not express
The prayers they made for meager aid
            To fight their helplessness.
The tower’s rise above their eyes
            Became a hellish lens,
When human souls in bitter throes
            Jumped screaming to their ends.
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