Burning The Old

• Joel Douglas, Grade 5
• Poetry
• 2021

The heat waves rolling off the structure,
the burning smell of wood and smoke,
I can feel the first layers of my skin searing.

Neighbours and kids were screaming for help down the street,
Panicking to call 000 with their hands shaking,
000 wasn’t going to do much now that my house is basically gone.

Red and blue lights surround me,
the sirens that pale next to the bon fire,
every drop of water does nothing to the raging fire.

My valuables being burnt to a crisp is horrific,
everything was precious to me,
the feeling of it made me want to perish.

I should have not left the lighter on the kitchen table,
My kids looked at me with regret in their eyes,
wishing I can turn back time to stop this tragedy.