Matches Poem by Elisabeth Wingle

Small town boys, having a catch
Were only seeking fun
A simple pack of matches
The deadly deed was done

'Light it Mike, your Dad's the Chief,
No one would dare blame you! '
The empty warehouse shuddered
It sensed what they would do

'Light it, light it, light it Now! '
His friends began to chant
'Guys my Dad's the Fire Chief!
He said ' you know I can't! '

His friends continued taunting
They offered him a dare
The pressure it was daunting
He lit the match right there

The fire spread so quickly
The warehouse filled with smoke
That's when they heard the blast
The boys began to choke

The call comes in and off they go
With sixty pounds of gear
They'll walk into the fire
Never showing any fear.

This is what they train for
The heat, the smoke, the fire!
Every firefighter knows
This is his hearts desire

The men ran to the building
Prepared to do their jobs
' Hey Chief' said the Lieutenant
Pushing past the growing mob

We got a call from dispatch
And this is what they said
Someone saw Mike walk in there
The Chiefs heart filled with dread

Although it was not 'By-the - book
They all ran in the fire
Dispatch called for back-up
Situation dire

Back smoke billowed out the door
Chief entered on his Knees
He felt his way along the wall
Praying ' Please God, please, please! '

' Chief! over here! We've found him! '
His men began to shout
The chief picked up his boy
And quickly ran him out

Mike looked at his Dad and said
'My friends are still inside! '
'How many? , Who was with you?
Counting me, there are five!

The first boy came out unscathed.
The next, smoke in his lungs.
You could hear more sirens now.
They brought the setting sun.


Three engines now fought the fire
But still, no sign of Chief
The third boy was carried out
To everyone's relief

Suddenly, they heard a crash
Glass shards fell from the sky
In the window stood the chief
The crowd let out a sigh

In his arms he held a boy
Waiting for the ladder
He felt the small boy go limp
His clothes were burned and tattered

Chief laid the boy on his knees
Then gave him CPR
Suddenly they heard a wheeze
The boy began to breathe


The crowd made a joyful noise!
The five young boys were saved
Chief jumped down and looked around
He strode to where Mike lay

His hand raised to hit his son
The boys head hung in shame
For he new what he had done
He was the one to blame

The Chief grabbed Mike, pulled him close.
His eyes held unshed tears
Chief checked Mike out from head to toes
And then he held him near

I'm sorry Dad, I really am
Mikes eyes now filled with tears
His father only smiled at him
The crowd began to cheer!