If minutes could choose how they would be used
Then eleven September’s 8:45
Might have surrendered its life
With 9:03 and 9:43, too.
But nobody asked the minutes.
They say one of time’s missions is to perfect vision.
Time can be a healer of pain
And it waits for no man;
A purpose for time
And a time for every purpose.
While it is certainly true that those minutes held good things, too;
Somewhere children were born
In a world so forlorn
A toddler took her first steps…
But will we remember those minutes for that?
It’s a fact that assassinations, massacres, and attacks
Have all grabbed minutes for their intent
And so many moments since
Not giving a thought
To how the minutes wished to be remembered.
Heaven is made up of those moments stolen by infamy
God takes them back.