Sirens

This is the type of thing

That you hear about on the news

It’s not the kind of thing

That happens to someone you know

 

When you hear the sirens calling

When you see the wreckage

You never for a second think

It’s somebody that you love

 

You’ve lived a good life

You say your prayers at night

You raise your children right

And volunteer your time

 

In the long run does it matter

How good of a person you are?

When you’re receiving the call

That shatters the life you’ve cultivated

 

This wasn’t supposed to happen

This wasn’t in the plans

When you hear those sirens calling

You never feared their wail was meant for you

 

Because this is the type of thing

That you hear about on the news

It’s not the kind of thing

You expected to happen to you

Reviews

[Kieta!]

Whenever my mom hears a siren, she prays for the people in the ambulance/firetruck/police car. I've always admired her for that. Then there's me. I hear sirens as just another part of my day.
Your poem has such a good point. It's humbling to think that it could be me, or someone I care about, in that ambulance.
Great job with the poem!!!! :) :)

[Haley Lynn Thomas]

I do the same; every time I hear a siren I send out a little prayer. Thank you for taking the time to read and review. I'm glad you liked it! :)