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Poems about firefighting

August 9, 2004

This frist poem isn’t mine,

Presented to the International Association Fire Fighters by the Executive Board

April 1973

“The Last Alarm”

Dedicated to the children of fire fighters who died in the line of duty…


My father was a fireman,

he drove a big red truck,

and when he’d go to work each night,

he’d say “Mother, wish me luck”.

Then dad would not come home again,

till’ sometime the next day,

but the thing that bothers me the most,

was the things some folks would say.

“A fireman’s life is easy,

he eats and sleeps and plays,

and sometimes he dont fight a fire,

for days and days and days”.

When I first heard these comments I was too young to understand,

cause I knew when people had trouble,

Dad was there to lend a hand.

Then my father went to work one day,

and he kissed us all good bye,

but little did we realize,

that night we all would cry.

My father gave his life that night,

when the floor gave away below,

and I wondered why he’d risk his life,

for someone he didnt know.

But I now realize the greatest gift a man can give,

is to lay his life upon the line,

so that someone else might live.

So as we go from day to day,

and we pray to God above,

say a prayer for your local firemen,

he may save the ones you love.

by, Jim Martinez

7th district Vice President

This one however is:

When the alarm sounds

When the alarm sounds something inside takes over
This is what we train for
A thousand things go though your mind at once
Bunkers on.
Jump on the Rig

In the distance, the Beast hears us coming….
And reacts with an all consuming hatred
Man, woman, old, young
The Beast doesn’t care
All he knows is one thing
Destory any and everything that gets in the way

First units on scence
Quick size up
And in a blur that confuses some a hundred things are done at once
In goes the attack team
Is there fear
Oh yes
But when I look around at my brothers and sisters
I know that my life is in there hands
They know that there life is in mine
And together we walk though
Death’s door

From smoke to steam the Beast is dead
This time we walk out of Death’s door
What will await my family the next time the alarm sounds
No time to worry there hose to roll and trucks to wash
But I do know that we will face it together
And that’s all that matters


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