The Call
By muse amused
The young fireman stood On zero ground. His stomach churned As he gazed around. His unbelieving eyes Saw twisted steel, Grey-white ash, It took great will Not to vomit, The scene grotesque. The bile rose up He clutched his chest. He was just barely Hanging on. His childhood friend Now was gone. Together they had arrived Answering the 911 call. Through smoke, brick and ash As it began to fall. Panic was rampant. They held their ground As screaming crowds Pushed them around. His friend was caught In a human tide Rushing through the lobby And he was pushed aside. Screams grew louder, Horrendous rumbling overhead. In less than five second Thousands were dead. He had escaped death When shoved out the door. He had heard his name called Over the deafening roar. the voice of his friend He knew so well shouting his name from the depths of this hell. A tribute of love to this fireman came The the last word of a friend Was his best friends name. Written September 25th, 2001 © on Sep 25 2001 01:14 AM PST 0 • 12
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"The young fireman stood..."