{I don't really know if this can be called poetry, but I scribbled it out while overhearing something that was on TV about the Titanic. It's not very polished but I like it anyway}

Up from steerage
The deck is crowded
All the ladies in their evening gowns.

Rich man tells me to get in a boat.
I fear.
Can we really be sinking?

The band is playing.
Nearer, my God to Thee.
I am cold.

Dawn comes.
There are bodies, floating upright
Faces, seen. Souls, gone.

They died for me.
For women and children –
Such honor and sacrifice.

The lists come out.
So many have died.
1,500. What weeping there is.

Outrage.
Crew members’ families fined.
For lost uniforms – what of lost life?

So many dead. They said it was unsinkable.
Why, oh why,
Did you mock God?

I wonder –
Are they waiting in New York?
Do they know the devastation?

They never saw the ship go down.
They never saw the frozen bodies.
They never saw the cold night in the life boat.

I am alive.
Rescued by Carpathia.
And yet there are many died – and one gave his place
For me.

A rich man, maybe,
Who had money and class
For a poor lass.
For me.

All that splendor at the bottom of the sea.
I weep, and wonder.
I will never, never forget this night.