Fire

I run and run,run for my life
As the fire devours
And cuts like a knife
The haven once ours
No more than a pile
Of burnt black rubbish
Nothing worthwhile
Shall this be our punish?
For not moving on
When they say that this place
Has long since been gone?
Now we will race
To see who will flee
A nonstop chase
To be sent away free

Author's Note

I hope you enjoy this poem! Please review!

Reviews

[Trigorin]

Not bad, and you've got a nice command of imagery here, but you need to check your grammar and spelling. Some of the little errors you've made detract somewhat from the value of the piece, considering the wonderful concept you've chosen. Fix those and this piece will be much better.