“Ground Zero” they call it
Yet, what does that mean?
Can “zero” be felt?
Can “zero” be seen?
Throngs say its “hallowed ground”
Where many lives were lost
When towers crashed down
I remember that day
The images…the sounds
But can someone tell me
Where on this earth
Blood can’t be found?
Where is this spot
So pure and so clean
Where men acted nobly
Never killed or demeaned
It’s surely not America
This much I say
Hatred and intolerance
Surf amber waves of grain
Between purple mountains
And their majesty
Lie greed and deception
With systemic bigotry
America the beautiful
America the brave
Once home to separate drinking fountains
Once built on backs of slaves
Where kind people are mocked
And others fiddle like Nero
Where the compassionate are shocked
To see the avaricious…our national hero
Now, in a gesture of hope and uniting
A Mosque, although of peace
Is branded evil…guilty of fighting
On Hallowed Ground…at Ground Zero
Those of good will are in the lurch
For a Mosque, in repugnant minds
Will never ever…be a Church
At Ground Zero an apt name
A sum summation of the cost
Where many died…and many never
Will understand…what they lost
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