Traditions
Have you ever been called a Probee?
Or Rookie? They're both the same.
Or bragged about being a fireman, your
only claim to fame.
Ever returned from a run at midnight,
tired and wet and cold, knowing it's time to clean the trucks;
a tradition form days of old.
Our world is full of traditions; Like
saying grace at noon;
A fire parade in October- In the light
of a harvest moon;
Visiting children at schools- our chest
pushed with pride;
Letting them blow the siren- or even
take a ride.
But this job's not all glory, there's
a dark gloomy side; Of homes and memories burning;
Lovedones trapped inside.
You pray you are successful in easing
someones pain, but often things are lost,
you can never regain.
When a fireman's duty calls him from
his life, and the flag draped on his casket,
is presented to his wife;
And when the bell is sounded, five
by five by five,
and God's taken another hero's name,
out of the book of life;
Just remember, it's tradition!
From day one you can depend, that comrades,
friends, and brothers
stand with you to the end.
--Author Unknown
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