Gone but not forgotten, remembering 7/7


10 years ago, London fell silent, what was first thought to be a power surge was actually more than anyone could imagine, a terror attack on our beautiful capital. Everyone remembers where they were when these things happen,  I was only 10 years old at the time, I even remember what I was wearing. I was heading back from a physio appointment with my Mum in her car (some things never change) and something came on the radio about something happening in London, being 10 years old I didn’t really understand or think much of it.

I didn’t go back to school, Mum took me home and my Dad was there it must have been his day off. He was trying to call his friend, Lee, but he couldn’t get through I just remember he kept calling. I still didn’t really understand properly but when Dad took me to get food shopping the next day the above picture was all over the papers, I remember both wanting to look and covering my eyes. My parents told me everyone needed to carry on, when they were kids bombs were going off in London all the time (when the IRA were around) , what had happened was awful but I wasn’t to be scared.

I’ve grown up with the constant reminders of 9/11 but there was something in my heart that made me never want to forget about 7/7. I wanted to keep getting the tube the older I got and not let fear dictate me (even though getting trapped on the underground is one of my worst fears). For the past few days I’ve read about each and every one of the people who were murdered 10 years ago, because they deserve to be remembered. I’ve sat and thought about them a lot today, their families, the people who tried to give them the dignity they deserved in death.

I decided to write a poem for them.

It didn’t seem different, like any other day

Rushing from the house

Can’t be late, can’t be late

London will never be the same.

The trains pull out of stations,

You think about the day ahead,

The pride of the Olympics

Something funny someone said.

But then everything is different,

You can’t see any more.

Everythings so dark, so dark

why are you on the floor.

The hours tick by and London’s awake

Clinging to the news, trying to guess their loved ones fate.

‘Did you hear about the bus?’ No one want’s to say.

It’s been 10 years now since that fateful day,

their hate will not replace the love of Londoners.

We’ll bow our heads in mourning, and remember each and every one.

Not just those who aren’t here today, but those replaying it, coping in their own way.

We will not forget you, or let your London down.

All we can hope is that we do your memory proud.

Image from the BBC

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