By Chris Mast

He did not think anything
Was going to happen that day.
Nothing was going to spoil the mood
Of that summer anyway.

He fought the night, the simple time
That threatened to put him to sleep.
"It's the summer,and God forbid,
I need not rest that deep."

He gave up the day, embraced the abyss
let sleep slip on him like ice.
Nestled in dreams, cuddled in comfort,
he thought to himself, "This is nice."

He remembered that day, how the dog had slept,
and the kittens had wrestled and fought.
How easy it was, without even knowing
to let time stand for naught.

He suddenly thought, alone to himself,
"What is all this? A joke?"
A cruel little trick, played against me, 
that's causing me to choke?"

He woke with a start, and realized that,
"Oh my god! This is real!"
The smoke, the heat, the fear and the death,
it's all from the fire I feel!"

He hurried his mother away and watched,
saw his way of life perish in flames.
And he then realized how precious life is,
and how cursed easy to waste it on games.

The firemen came and put out his rage
and did not even offer a hand.
So the boy was left coughing and broken,
as a fire engulfed his land.