The Fire Is Out

September 1, 2010
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As the smoke billows through the air,
And the fire burns whats left of my life,
I hear the screams of the helpless,
I know that soon my home will be bear.
Nothing left but a pile of ashes,
Nothing left but a soulless reminder of my past.
The fire burns and I cant move,
Wishing that time was fast.
Im waiting for the men in the red suits to bring out body bags and remains,
The fact that my sisters hand is on my shoulder is the only thing keeping me sane.
This beloved place that was my sanctuary,
my home.
The men with the hard hats, and the equally hard faces,
spray water at the house,
and its turning into foam.
It swallows the house whole,
and as the fire dims,
someone from behind me shouts,
The fire is out.

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