My heart it aches, my prayers are many for 230 families tonight. Because their friends and loved ones were tragically lost in flight; They represent many countries nationalities and races. Most were seeking fun and joy in many beautiful places; I ask myself over and over Oh Lord How Could It Be? Why did 230 bodies fall into the Atlantic Sea;
When I heard that it was possible this was the work of terrorists My palms they started bleeding from the clenching of my fists; Life is very precious but death we cannot control Now God has 230 angels and he will bless each and every soul; We must control our anger and pray and pray and pray For relatives friends and loved ones who will suffer every day;
A service was held for the victims on Fire Island sand As millions and millions of people mourned through-out the land; They say time heals all wounds which I personally do not believe Because many have lost loved ones and for eternity we will grieve;
As I write this tragic poem many tears come to my eyes And I also mourn for other when I look up at the skies; I am just a man who suffer along with all of you today But I hope my words and prayers will somehow help you along the way.
I wrote this poem on the night of July 17, 1996. I have always wanted the families of Flight 800 to read it.
Michael F. Connolly, Woodside, New York
