On the anniversary of the crash of fictional Flight 815, I find myself feeling rather sentimental. Last night I was in serious contemplation mode, and wound up writing this silly little ode to our favorite show.
Pilot Seth Norris is not scheduled to fly;
Frank J. Lapidus was supposed to be their guy.
Frank J. Lapidus was supposed to be their guy.
September twenty-second, two thousand four.
A plane left from Sydney, and ended up on the shore.
Jack's on the airplane, 23A.
Drinking his vodka en route to LA.
Charlie's in the restroom, getting a drug fix.
They hit light turbulence, or so Jack predicts.
Kate's in handcuffs, drinking her OJ.
In custody of the Marshal, she didn't get away.
Below on an island, a man named Desmond Hume
Didn't enter numbers, thus 815 went...boom.
He unleashed a force quite electromagnetic.
An event accidental, or possibly prophetic.
Oceanic Airlines flight Eight Fifteen,
Breaks apart and disappears, never to be seen.
Tail section in the water, Bernard up in a tree,
Fuselage on the beach, red shirts yelling "help me!"
Jack's in the jungle, party of one.
Christian sends dog Vincent, "go see my son."
A bald man on the beach discovers he can walk;
Previously in a wheelchair, this comes as quite a shock.
Claire is eight months pregnant, sitting among the debris.
Hurley helps her; his first words are "oh, you got to be kidding me."
Pretty boy Boone tries to revive a Rose,
While his spoiled 'sister' Shannon is less than composed.
A monster of sorts is heard but not seen,
Could be animal, man or even machine.
Five years ago tonight, LOST changed TV.
They had us at "Walt!" and "guys, where are we?"
Upon Season Six, we're not sure what's next;
Except that it involves a little place called LAX...
I would love to hear your stories; where you were on 9/22/04 and your experiences watching Lost for the very first time. Share your thoughts in the Comments, and thank you for acknowledging and celebrating this day in Lost history with me!
-Jo