The Warning Bell, Memories From Bridge City Poem by Quame Boatmann

Help! Help!
Fall in! Fall in!
The voice was a petrified one
Yet nothing came from anyone
For silence and fear took over everyone

The crystal moon was cruel to us this night
And the scanty sparkling stars
Were out of the sky
The titanic torches in the streets were impotent
And the only potent ones were numb
The tress had ceased dancing
And the utter silence that concurred the creepy night
Was his utter doom
No one went to his aid

And when the sun gave a bright smile
As the sky began erupting chirping birds
On the harmonious dancing tress
We all became abreast of his ordeal

He would be living with his ancestors by now
Who ever thought the bell was our defense device?
And there we realized how useful
The warning bell of our masters was
Wicked they seemed, but that only girded us
For what may come