When I was but a wee thing,
No more than five or six years old,
The teacher asked us what we wanted to be.
"A fire truck!", I beamed.
She rode it off as eccentric,
And my dreams shattered
As pyrite against bedrock
But though I have aged,
And the torrents of time
Have proven my desires
To be denied...
I will not forget.
Those days of my youth
When the impossible seemed
But a stone's throw away.
Thus when I expire,
However soon that may be,
Please do but one thing
To gratify me:
The Hook and Ladder truck
In Central Station,
She's a beaut;
A pity it is that she is in disrepair.
Incinerate my remains,
Mix them into the
Deepest shade of candy apple red
And once that has been done,
See to it that she is restored
To her former glory.
Only then shall I be whole again.
A contest entry
- I'm a Fire Truck =] by Manda Kathryn.
450 points, ended September 28, 2007, 5 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
WOW!!! This just melts my heart..how very emotional this poem is. I cannot imagine anyone being so close to a firetruck, but yes, we all have dreams and when they shatter, I know how much it hurts. I really liked your poem and had it been my contest, this would receive Gold..Enough said..now let me wipe my tears...
Love always,
Charishma
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HI Raving Idiot
Wow! What a write ... this was so sweet, innocent and powerful and sad at the same time!!
Fantastic write !
Thank you for your entry
BEST of luck in the contest
Stay safe
~Amanda
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