Hell Cry
By Matty Gregg

I woke up in a cold sweat one night.
There was a hard rain outside.
I thought I was dreaming,
And realized I was remembering.
Nightmaring, if you will.

I sat up, assured I was ok,
Tied my robe, and ambled to the window.
Harsh rain fell upon the streets below
I looked closer at the drops
That found their way to the top of my windowsill.

There I watched them, one by one,
Dropping from the dark cloud above.
Hitting the windowsill with such impact
It tore them completely apart.

Realizing they could no longer afford
To dream in that cloud, they wish for release,
The cloud forcing them out harshly to the ground.
While the drops prayed for peace.

It was raining on September 11th,
though the sun stood tall in the sky.
And the black cloud over New York City
was raining sadness that would make Hell cry.