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Two Thousand One, Nine Eleven
by Paul Spreadbury


Two thousand one, nine eleven
Five thousand plus arrive in heaven
As they pass through the gate,
Thousands more appear in wait
A bearded man with stovepipe hat
Steps forward saying,
"Lets sit, lets chat"
They settle down in seats of clouds
A man named Martin shouts out proud
"I have a dream!" and once he did
The Newcomer said, "Your dream still lives."
Groups of soldiers in blue and gray
Others in khaki, and green then say
"We're from Bull Run, Yorktown, the Maine"
The Newcomer said, "You died not in vain."
From a man on sticks one could hear
"The only thing we have to fear...
The Newcomer said, "We know the rest,
trust us sir, we've passed that test."
"Courage doesn't hide in caves
You can't bury freedom, in a grave,"
The Newcomers had heard this voice before
A distinct Yankees twang from Hyannisport shores
A silence fell within the mist
Somehow the Newcomer knew that this
Meant time had come for her to say
What was in the hearts of the five thousand plus
that day
"Back on Earth, we wrote reports,
Watched our children play in sports
Worked our gardens, sang our songs
Went to church and clipped coupons
We smiled, we laughed, we cried, we fought
Unlike you, great we're not"
The tall man in the stovepipe hat
Stood and said, "don't talk like that!
Look at your country, look and see
You died for freedom, just like me"
Then, before them all appeared a scene
Of rubbled streets and twisted beams
Death, destruction, smoke and dust
And people working just 'cause they must
Hauling ash, lifting stones,
Knee deep in hell
But not alone
"Look! Blackman, whiteman, brownman, yellowman
Side by side helping their fellow man!"
So said Martin, as he watched the scene
"Even from nightmares, can be born a dream."
Down below three firemen raised
The colors high into ashen haze
The soldiers above had seen it before
On Iwo Jima back in '44
The man on sticks studied everything closely
Then shared his perceptions on what he saw mostly
"I see pain, I see tears,
I see sorrow - but I don't see fear."
"You left behind husbands and wives
Daughters and sons and so many lives
are suffering now because of this wrong
But look very closely. You're not really gone.
All of those people, even those who've never met
you
All of their lives, they'll never forget you
Don't you see what has happened?
Don't you see what you've done?
You've brought them together, together as one.
With that the man in the stovepipe hat said
"Take my hand," and from there he led
five thousand plus heroes, Newcomers to heaven
On this day, two thousand one nine eleven.

 

Please Read On.....................................

 

Subject: Letter to a Terrorist
An open letter to a terrorist:
Well, you hit the World Trade Center, but you missed America. You hit the
Pentagon, but you missed America. You used helpless American bodies, to
take out other American bodies, but like a poor marksman, you STILL missed
America.
Why? Because of something you guys will never understand. America isn't
about a building or two, not about financial centers, not about military
centers, America isn't about a place, America isn't even about a bunch of
bodies. America is about an IDEA. An idea, that you can go someplace
where
you can earn as much as you can figure out how to, live for the most part,
like you envisioned living, and pursue Happiness. (No guarantees that
you'll reach it, but you can sure try!)
Go ahead and whine your terrorist whine, and chant your terrorist litany:
"If you cannot see my point, then feel my pain." This concept is alien to
Americans. We live in a country where we don't have to see your point.
But
you're free to have one. We don't have to listen to your speech. But
you're free to say one. Don't know where you got the strange idea that
everyone has to agree with you.
There's a spirit that tends to take over people who come to this country,
looking for opportunity, looking for liberty, looking for freedom. Even
if
they misuse it.
You guys seem to be incapable of understanding that we don't live in
America, America lives in US! American Spirit is what it's called. And
killing a few thousand of us, or a few million of us, won't change it.
Most
of the time, it's a pretty happy-go-lucky kind of Spirit. Until we're
crossed in a cowardly manner, then it becomes an entirely different kind
of
Spirit.
Wait until you see what we do with that Spirit, this time.
Sleep tight, if you can. We're coming............



God Bless America !
Dr. Tammy K. Brazil
Empowering People to Help Themselves

 

The Detox Doctor Inc.

 

DR. Tammy K. Brazil