Poem

The Fire



Stench of smoke, taste of soot
All possessions charred black
Crunching underfoot

Dozens watching
Neighbors, Police, Fire Crews
A terrible nightmare unfortunately true
What will I do?!
"Take deep breaths," he says
"We'll talk you through."

No one injured, close call
But now left with nothing
caused my own downfall

Tears swell in my eyes
In front of grown men,
who've seen people die,
breaking down to cry?
Who the hell am I?!
Damn lucky to be alive

Something in the rubble,
the guitar still safe
Sealed tight,
in its' fireproof case

I wipe ash from my face
One last look,
all else waste
An entire life misplaced

But trials strengthen the man,
so carry on while you still can
Which now I understand
Years later, strumming with the band


-J.R.