Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
We risk our lives everyday every time that we clock in, it's our way of life and what we do its the way it's always been. We wake at 3 am to bells ringing and sirens blare, we leap to our feet and go get dressed to fight deep in Hells lair. In the darkness we don our gear Strap on helmet and boot, as one these brothers all get up go sliding down the chute. We run to the truck now wide awake and with ease we slide in, we put on our headsets to hear each other all other noise becomes a low din. We race to the scene where smoke is showing no one knows who got out, we put on our airpacks and our masks to talk we must now shout. With axe in hand we enter therein the Devils home amidst the flame, we quickly search for everyone boy, girl, man and dame. The air is hot we can feel it through the clothe armor that we wear, but on we search through the building till we realize we're low on air. Another​ crew goes in In their hands the hose To find the seat of the flames It's advancement to oppose We cut the roof we pull the ceiling Our hands and feet lose all feeling We find a child we cover them up We rush back to the door We bring them to safety and go back in To check and search for more For hours the cycle repeats Till all is said and done The fire is out, we've done our job This time we won No fire is left and all are safe We put our tools and hose away And go back to the station Where hopefully we'll get to stay Our gears been scrubbed Time to rest our exhausted bodies We wake at 8 am to bells ringing and sirens blare, we leap to our feet and go get dressed to fight deep in Hells lair...
0
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 10:32 PM UTC
A Fireman's Day
We risk our lives everyday every time that we clock in, it's our way of life and what we do its the way it's always been. We wake at 3 am to bells ringing and sirens blare, we leap to our feet and go get dressed to fight deep in Hells lair. In the darkness we don our gear Strap on helmet and boot, as one these brothers all get up go sliding down the chute. We run to the truck now wide awake and with ease we slide in, we put on our headsets to hear each other all other noise becomes a low din. We race to the scene where smoke is showing no one knows who got out, we put on our airpacks and our masks to talk we must now shout. With axe in hand we enter therein the Devils home amidst the flame, we quickly search for everyone boy, girl, man and dame. The air is hot we can feel it through the clothe armor that we wear, but on we search through the building till we realize we're low on air. Another​ crew goes in In their hands the hose To find the seat of the flames It's advancement to oppose We cut the roof we pull the ceiling Our hands and feet lose all feeling We find a child we cover them up We rush back to the door We bring them to safety and go back in To check and search for more For hours the cycle repeats Till all is said and done The fire is out, we've done our job This time we won No fire is left and all are safe We put our tools and hose away And go back to the station Where hopefully we'll get to stay Our gears been scrubbed Time to rest our exhausted bodies We wake at 8 am to bells ringing and sirens blare, we leap to our feet and go get dressed to fight deep in Hells lair...
ryan-long
Written by
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 10:32 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem