Poem -

Fifth alarm

Fifth alarm

Can't seem to make this stop -

Blinding, grinding gears

Pulling into alternate forevers,

as I stand upon useless brake.

Fanning, showers of sparks - now flames -

Same silence crackles, as if a raging forest fire

consuming all in this path.

My -

Buckets of water -

Shovels of sand -

Trenches, dug from sweat, 

finds feilds empty!

No flames -

Not surprised by such luck,

I praise my assured success.

Retreating to my newest aversion -

No thoughts of what had just been burning -

I turn back at last,

to find my city now burned to the ground.

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