MY POEM FOR NYFD & NYPD WHO LOST THIER LIFES

[richard.boryer]

911

TUESDAY SEPTEMBER 11 2001
THE CALL BELLS WENT DOWN
THEY RACE TO CALL
TO SAVE LIFES
NOW THE
FIRE HOUSE
POLICE STATION
AMBULANCE STATION
FROM WHERE THE ANSWERED
THE CALL FOR HELP
ARE QUIET.
FOR SOME DID NOT RETURN
FROM THIS CALL

[MFD]

i started writing some poems aftering thinking of all the NY city f.f. lost in the world trade center bombing.
I call this one "Tim"
Tim was a New York Firefighter
everyone loved Tim cause he would risk life and limb.
on Tuesday, September 11th,2001 the fire bell rang for a possbile bomb.
He jumped in to the red truck .
He look at his partner, Ted and smiled.
On the way to the fire Tim prayer for all of those in the fire.
Tim arrived on the scence and said "Time to do my job"
his commander named Rob told him he was "going in"
so Tim suited up and took a picture of his wife and gave it a kiss. who would later eventally be missed. He goes into the building to help trapped victims. a plane hits the 2nd tower and the tower is snapped like a weak flower. now Tim is up in heaven helping hundreds of people in need.
if you look up you might just see a angel with a fire hat on smiling like you and me.


I hope you guys like that poem . it took me awhile to write it.

[Ravynwolf]

Both poems were very nice. Thank you for sharing.

Writing poetry and songs,singing,praying,painting,sketching, etc. are all outlets for emotions that we feel. It is very important to let our emotions show, I feel. I am glad there are so many people sharing their emotions right now. Lets hope it continues, and it helps make the world a gentler place.

I was sent the following page in an email today, and on it was the poem I had been given years ago that I have already posted.

Hopefully, visiting the page and reading some of the writings will help someone who feels the need to express themselves, but cannot find their own words. Have a hankercheif ready. http://earth.vol.com/~anderson/cfdweb/poemsprayers.html

Ravyn,
Ohio

[rosco2000]

Here's one I wrote on th job 25 years ago.

Oh,come all yee fellows,
so young and so fine.
You men on the hooks,
and you men on the line.

Well,it forms as a habit,
and grows in your soul,
'til the blood in yor veins,
turns as black as the hose.

Where it's dark as a dungen,
and as damp,as the dew.
Where the peril is doubled,
and the pleasures are few.

Where the rain never falls,
and the sun never shines..
The men of the big house,
are the best you can find.

Well,you hear many stories
that are really untrue.
We don't mess around,
with nothing to do.
We don't play pinnochle,
nor checker games.
Our whole life is spent,
in the smoke and the flames.

Where as dark as a dungeon,
and as damp as the dew.
Where the perils are doubled,
and the pleasures are few.
where the rain never falls,
and the sun never shines,
the men of "La Casa Grande" are the best you will find.