Words of a Poet

This one is weird, I was just kind of writing. Strange because it was daytime.

Sirens

The sirens blare as they chase the night
Always on call to fight death
Never taking a night off
The sirens fly to save you
Every night the sirens are too late
Too late to do any good
They get lost in the night
Lost in the darkness
They are just a sound.
A thought.

by Matthew Henrickson