|The London bombings, seven, seven, three years ago,
For some, the time has flown, for others it has gone slow.
Daily they’re tormented by thoughts of what might have been,
As if it happened yesterday, they can still see the scene.
Bombs detonated on trains and a bus, ripped apart,
Devastation, death, suffering, struck at London’s heart.
Broken bodies and shattered minds that still disturb sleep,
Misery moved into lives, futures crumpled in a heap.
Seven hundred people were injured and each one strives
To battle the impact that the bombs had on their lives.
Many of them confess, three years on, that still their dreams
Are nightmares, for they are frequently haunted by the screams.
Even in bright sunshine people say that they feel chilled,
Graphically remember how the fifty-two were killed.
Harrowing stories show, the legacy that remains
Reveal mental scars, jagged memories in their brains.
Heroes and heroines, they’re the unexpected brave,
One survivor lost both legs that they just could not save.
On prosthetic limbs, five months later, walked up the aisle,
She married, overcame adversity, regained her smile.
London’s busy centre has bravely found its own way
To carry on, not give in, especially today.
Courageously they’re living, walking with heads held high,
Please remember those still hurting, but London did not die!
The average age of those that died was twenty-eight,
Three years ago on seven, seven, they met their fate.
Broken bodies and shattered minds and yet we remain
Strong in the face of fear, our hearts terror will never gain.