By GP. Avants
This tale is about John M.
A fire chief
With a batallion of men.
Fighting fires,
Saving lives,
Giving hearts
Another try.
Years JM made his city proud
They hailed his service
Patting shoulders,
Praising loud.
Yet,
When the embers burned low,
And the city ebbed cold,
Our heroes once burning valiant
Are shuffed off in the snow.
Cuts are made
But cuts that bleed
Regardless of the pressing need.
John M. who led his fired up team
Who held his line without broken seam.
Got burned himself by those in lead.
What does a fireman do
When he gets burned?
If those whom he helped
Have left walked and turned
Their backs?
It’s a fickle thing
To be seen as a hero of men.
When things are good,
The way we think they should
Be
Your in the formost in
Their memories.
When times are bad
And money is tight
It seems you’re an extra expense,
That to them doesn’t equate,
Or make good business sense
They send you a way.
We all know that isn’t wise
Or right.
However,
Others in need will see your worth,
They have need of your fire
When their hope burns low.
Something stirs in the ashes
A new green bit among bracken branches.
That remind the hero
His dreams need not die
They stay always a-glow.
Everyday heros
Or professional ones,
Don’t give up
When the world
Walks away.
Be true to
The Hero of Heroes
Through the “hoorays’
And the low blows,
To the end of your days.
Be Encouraged by G.P. Avants 