At 2 o'clock (GMT) on Tuesday 11th September 2001, in a small primary school in Hampshire, the kids, and me, noticed the teachers getting slightly edgy, and quietly talking to each other in the corridors. It only twigged that something bad had happened, was still happening, when my mum snapped at me to be quiet and listen, and turned on the radio. Just a few moments later we heard cries of 'Oh my god, there's another one!' Various shrieks came through. 'A second plane has hit the World Trade Center.' The rest of the afternoon was spent watching the unfolding news. Pentagon hit, another plane down in the middle of nowhere, and the collapse of the twin towers, and over the next few days, the rescue operations.

The next day, back at school, in Class 5, our teacher asked us to write poems about what happened, or just a short prayer or something. So I wrote this. Please bear in mind that I wrote this when I was 9, so it's not my best piece. Also it's probably the earliest piece I'll upload on here.

Anyway, this is for them.

Jumbo Jets and Firemen.

On Tuesday 11th September,

Something happened that we'll remember.

A jumbo jet crashed,

The trade center smashed,

And people in a huddle.

People had suffered,

People survived.

People had splinters,

Lots of them died.

In go the Firemen,

Out go the people.

It's stories high,

Used to reach the sky,

But now it's just rubble.