Fire

Fire


Fire! Fire! Fire!
The engine rushes to the scene
but still the children are brought out dead.
The 'Devil's Fire Sticks' are what my father called cigarettes.
I've learnt that he was right, for now my charred lungs
remind me of his words,
with cough and wheeze and blood stained spittle,
I feel the evil growing in my lungs.
I stand in the garden, held back by neighbours as my house burns.
Inside me my soul screams silently.
The matches left on the coffee table must have tempted them.
I only went out for two minutes to catch the post,
I'd written to tell my mother the doctor says
I have three months.
Now I've killed my babies and the fires of Hell await me!