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In this section we call Tribute, we set up poems sent to us by viewers to the American soldiers in Afghanistan. If you have a poem please e-mail us

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You may not be a brother of blood,
But your a brother of our hearts.
You fight to bring peace to all,
That terrorism fought hard to tear apart.
You may not be a sister of blood,
But my soul knows that we're bound.
You go to war, with so much pride,
Protecting a family, newly found.
We may not break bread together,
But my prayers go with you.
To help you through the sleepless nights,
I send my love to comfort you.
Remember that we, at home,
Will hold you in our thoughts,
and through the time you're gone from us,
You will never be forgot.
Becci Irving

Looking,Laughing,Standing with honor.
Our boy's and girls explode with pride.
Protecting, defending,in our our hour of need.
To the evil ones ye shall heed.
A WARNING to you oh great ignorant one.
We shall forever reign apon you.
The Wrath of thee ALMIGHTY GOD.
And who so ever shall be found,
With out the heart to stand down (the terrorist)
Shall live in ever lasting fear.
You see the american people live,
Under the reign of one king!!!
And he's watching you!!!!!!!

I feel your pain and anger. JUst know, and pray that there is one person who will in time make things a little easier. GOD said that he would never let fall apon us any burdens that we could not handle. He's here and he is caring us right now. god bless you and I'm praying for you

FRAGILE

If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the color of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay

Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence
and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are

A song by Sting.

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Think about how the words in this song relate to the attack.

This is something I wrote for my daughter three days after the attack on the World Trade Center. It's since been posted all over and has appeared in many daily newspapers. Hope you enjoy it.

Two Thousand One, Nine Eleven by Paul Spreadbury

Two thousand one, nine eleven
Five thousand plus arrive in heaven
And as they pass through the gate,
Thousands more appear in wait

A bearded man with stovepipe hat
Steps forward saying,
“Lets sit, lets chat”

As they settle in deep 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 did 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
and trust us sir, we’ve passed that test.”

“Courage isn’t something that hides in a cave
You can’t bury freedom, no matter how deep the grave,”
The Newcomers had heard this voice before
A distinct Yankees twang from the Hyannisport shore

Suddenly 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 six 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”

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 fellowman!”
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, left behind 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.