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EMT/Paramedic poems and prayers

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[align=center:0f8cc66465]"A Paramedic's Prayer"

As I perform my duty, Lord,

Whatever be the call

Help to guide and keep me safe,

From dangers big and small.

I want to serve and do my best

No matter what the scene,

I promise to keep my skills refined,

My judgment sharp and keen.

This calling to give of myself,

most do not understand,

But I stand ready all the time

to help my fellow man.

A word of thanks I might not hear,

but knowing is enough,

That I have helped just even one

To go on to live and love.

A Paramedic's Prayer

Lord, You know what lies ahead of me this day.

The calls I will be asked to respond to,

And those who find themselves in situations they

never imagined

And see no way out.

For them I humbly ask that you would speed

me on with attending angels

At my side guiding every decision and procedure

To all who plead and those who cannot, I pray to

be a Good samaritan

As they look to me for help and rescue.

Help me to save as many as I can,

And should mine be the last face they see,

I pray they will have looked into eyes

That reflected You love for them

In Jesus' Name Amen.

Paramedic's Prayer

Dear Lord, let me receive the sick

and traumatized with an open and giving heart.

Give to my efforts success so that life may

continue, if it be your will. Without you

I cannot succeed.

Let me have no purpose except the

glorification of life.

Grant that the sick that you have

placed in my care be abundantly blessed,

and not one of them be lost due to any

neglect on my part.

Help me to overcome any temporal weakness

so that I may serve to my fullest capacity.

Let me always reach out to all in joy, compassion

and with a loving heart.

Why God made Paramedics

When God made paramedics, He was into His sixth day of overtime.

An angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."

God said, "Have you read the specs on this order?

A Paramedic has to be able to carry an injured person up a wet, grassy hill in the dark,

dodge stray bullets to reach a dying child unarmed,

enter homes the health inspector wouldn't touch,

and not wrinkle his uniform."

"He has to be able to lift three times his own weight.

Crawl into wrecked cars with barely enough room to move,

and console a grieving mother as

he is doing CPR on a baby he knows will never breathe again."

"He has to be in top mental condition at all times,

running on no sleep, black coffee and half-eaten meals,

and he has to have six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands...no way."

"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," God replied.

"It's the three pairs of eyes a medic has to have."

"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.

God nodded. "One pair that sees open sores as he's drawing blood,

always wondering if the patient is HIV positive."

(When he already knows and wishes he'd taken that accounting job)

"Another pair here in the side of his head for his partner's safety.

And another pair of eyes here in front

that can look reassuringly at a bleeding victim and say,

"You'll be alright ma'am when he knows it isn't so."

"Lord," said the angel, touching His sleeve, "rest and work on this tomorrow."

"I can't," God replied.

"I already have a model that can talk a 250 pound

drunk out from behind a steering wheel

without incident and feed a family of five on a private service paycheck."

The angel circled the model of the Paramedic very slowly.

"Can it think?" she asked.

"You bet", God said.

"It can tell you the symptoms of 100 illnesses;

recite drug calculations in it's sleep;

intubate, defibrillate, medicate, and continue CPR

nonstop over terrain that any doctor would fear...

and it still keeps it's sense of humor."

"This medic also has phenomenal personal control.

He can deal with a multi-victim trauma,

coax a frightened elderly person to unlock their door,

comfort a murder victim's family,

and then read in the daily paper how Paramedics were

unable to locate a house quickly enough,

allowing the person to die.

A house that had no street sign, no house numbers, no phone to call back."

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the Paramedic.

"There's a leak," she pronounced.

"I told You that You were trying to put too much into this model."

"That's not a leak," God replied, "It's a tear."

"What's the tear for?" asked the angel.

"It's for bottled up emotions,

for patients they've tried in vain to save,

for commitment to that hope

that they will make a difference in a person's chance to survive, for life."

"You're a genius!" said the angel.

God looked somber.

"I DIDN'T PUT IT THERE" He said.

Author Unknown

One White Rose

A call for help goes out at three,

Setting off pagers all over town.

Somewhere, an unknown 1050

And the dispatcher cannot calm down.

Rescuers leap out of their beds

Leaving with no backward glances.

They can only guess what's ahead

As they leave in fire trucks and ambulances.

The ambulance departs the station

As the dispatcher repeats the address.

"The injured require extrication,

And most of all ALS."

inside, they feel so empty,

Not knowing what awaits.

Also, unsettling urgency--

They're responsible for other's fates.

Dread reaches out icy claws

As they hear the latest news.

Officers are requesting the "jaws"

And even more backup crews.

Firefighters are also on the way--

Hearts racing, a touch of fear.

"Jaws of life, what's your ETA?"

Less than a minute, now they're here.

The police were first on the scene

Controlling and directing traffic

And updating the rest of the team

(Although the sight makes them sick.)

The scene is a wicked nightmare,

Broken glass and plastic litter the ground.

There's twisted metal everywhere

And the odor of ETOH all around.

The images are horrifying, grotesque

Lit by red and blue flashing lights.

Worse than anyone had guessed--

It will haunt them of many nights.

One young man, on his way home,

Didn't see the stop sign.

The mini van he T-boned

Couldn't move in time.

20 years old-too young to drink

He'd said he was sober-- it was a lie.

he left the party, his friends didn't think

That he'd be DUI.

Crushed and slumped against the wheel

Was the driver of the van.

Dead of injuries he didn't feel,

An innocent family man.

Crumpled against the passenger door

Lay his broken and battered wife,

Her cries faded and were no more

As she passed out of this life.

A scream echoes on the icy breeze

From out of a shallow grave

Despite the efforts of the EMT's

It will be a third life they cannot save.

Curled up in a heap

The child is discovered in the wreck.

He may have only been asleep--

Except for his broken neck.

The young driver staggers form his car,

Bleeding from a cut on his arm.

He watches the scene from afar

As he's suffered no major harm.

An officer sees him standing there

And gives him a breathalyzer test.

Ignoring the boy's glassy stare

Says; "Son your under arrest."

When hopes of survivors were almost gone

And it seemed pointless to try

They heard a sound that drove them on--

A weak and scared child's cry

She looked like a porcelain doll

With pale hair and a button nose.

Skin so white, body not hurt at all--

Like a lonely white rose.

They pulled her free and began care

Of this child of barely three.

Fortunately, she was unaware

That she'd lost her family.

Hours later, the street is clean--

All traces of tragedy gone.

Rescuers slowly depart the scene

But memories don't fade with dawn.

The boy is taken to jail,

Where he beats his fist against the tile.

His mother cannot afford his bail,

And so he'll remain until his trial.

His mother, with eyes downcast,

Had tried to leave but he'd caught her.

"What's wrong? What is it?" he'd asked.

She cried and said "Vehicular Manslaughter."

For 17 years, the man had cried

Consumed with guilt and sorrow.

At times, he wished he had died

So he wouldn't face another tomorrow.

At last, he was being released

From years and years of Hell.

The pain of the accident never ceased

And never would, he could tell.

As soon as he was out, he found the graves

Of the people he had killed.

Their deaths haunted all his days

And left a void that couldn't be filled.

He is laying flowers on the ground

Next to each headstone.

He hears a voice and spins around

And discovers he's not alone.

Behind him is the one he didn't kill.

He shares the anguish she knows.

Drawn her against his will,

He gives her One White Rose.

Author Unknown

EMT Prayer

LORD,

Grant me the wisdom so that I may treat

those of your children that lay at my feet.

Let my hands be gentle, sure and swift

to impart to them your sacred gift.

Let me see only a patient's need

not their color, race or creed.

Help me always to be my best

even when it's on my hours rest.

Grant me the insight to understand why

patients of mine are going to die.

Let me remember that when they do

there is a wonderful life in Heaven with You.

Lord, if in the time of duty I should fall

help my family to hold their heads tall.

For it was You who decided that I should be

one of your chosen few, an EMT.

-Author Unknown- [/align:0f8cc66465]

P.S. I was not sure where to put this post feel free to move it if you need to

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[align=center:09f922bcb7]"A Paramedic's Prayer"

As I perform my duty, Lord,

Whatever be the call

Help to guide and keep me safe,

From dangers big and small.

I want to serve and do my best

No matter what the scene,

I promise to keep my skills refined,

My judgment sharp and keen.

This calling to give of myself,

most do not understand,

But I stand ready all the time

to help my fellow man.

A word of thanks I might not hear,

but knowing is enough,

That I have helped just even one

To go on to live and love.

A Paramedic's Prayer

Lord, You know what lies ahead of me this day.

The calls I will be asked to respond to,

And those who find themselves in situations they

never imagined

And see no way out.

For them I humbly ask that you would speed

me on with attending angels

At my side guiding every decision and procedure

To all who plead and those who cannot, I pray to

be a Good samaritan

As they look to me for help and rescue.

Help me to save as many as I can,

And should mine be the last face they see,

I pray they will have looked into eyes

That reflected You love for them

In Jesus' Name Amen.

Paramedic's Prayer

Dear Lord, let me receive the sick

and traumatized with an open and giving heart.

Give to my efforts success so that life may

continue, if it be your will. Without you

I cannot succeed.

Let me have no purpose except the

glorification of life.

Grant that the sick that you have

placed in my care be abundantly blessed,

and not one of them be lost due to any

neglect on my part.

Help me to overcome any temporal weakness

so that I may serve to my fullest capacity.

Let me always reach out to all in joy, compassion

and with a loving heart.

Why God made Paramedics

When God made paramedics, He was into His sixth day of overtime.

An angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."

God said, "Have you read the specs on this order?

A Paramedic has to be able to carry an injured person up a wet, grassy hill in the dark,

dodge stray bullets to reach a dying child unarmed,

enter homes the health inspector wouldn't touch,

and not wrinkle his uniform."

"He has to be able to lift three times his own weight.

Crawl into wrecked cars with barely enough room to move,

and console a grieving mother as

he is doing CPR on a baby he knows will never breathe again."

"He has to be in top mental condition at all times,

running on no sleep, black coffee and half-eaten meals,

and he has to have six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands...no way."

"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," God replied.

"It's the three pairs of eyes a medic has to have."

"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.

God nodded. "One pair that sees open sores as he's drawing blood,

always wondering if the patient is HIV positive."

(When he already knows and wishes he'd taken that accounting job)

"Another pair here in the side of his head for his partner's safety.

And another pair of eyes here in front

that can look reassuringly at a bleeding victim and say,

"You'll be alright ma'am when he knows it isn't so."

"Lord," said the angel, touching His sleeve, "rest and work on this tomorrow."

"I can't," God replied.

"I already have a model that can talk a 250 pound

drunk out from behind a steering wheel

without incident and feed a family of five on a private service paycheck."

The angel circled the model of the Paramedic very slowly.

"Can it think?" she asked.

"You bet", God said.

"It can tell you the symptoms of 100 illnesses;

recite drug calculations in it's sleep;

intubate, defibrillate, medicate, and continue CPR

nonstop over terrain that any doctor would fear...

and it still keeps it's sense of humor."

"This medic also has phenomenal personal control.

He can deal with a multi-victim trauma,

coax a frightened elderly person to unlock their door,

comfort a murder victim's family,

and then read in the daily paper how Paramedics were

unable to locate a house quickly enough,

allowing the person to die.

A house that had no street sign, no house numbers, no phone to call back."

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the Paramedic.

"There's a leak," she pronounced.

"I told You that You were trying to put too much into this model."

"That's not a leak," God replied, "It's a tear."

"What's the tear for?" asked the angel.

"It's for bottled up emotions,

for patients they've tried in vain to save,

for commitment to that hope

that they will make a difference in a person's chance to survive, for life."

"You're a genius!" said the angel.

God looked somber.

"I DIDN'T PUT IT THERE" He said.

Author Unknown

One White Rose

A call for help goes out at three,

Setting off pagers all over town.

Somewhere, an unknown 1050

And the dispatcher cannot calm down.

Rescuers leap out of their beds

Leaving with no backward glances.

They can only guess what's ahead

As they leave in fire trucks and ambulances.

The ambulance departs the station

As the dispatcher repeats the address.

"The injured require extrication,

And most of all ALS."

inside, they feel so empty,

Not knowing what awaits.

Also, unsettling urgency--

They're responsible for other's fates.

Dread reaches out icy claws

As they hear the latest news.

Officers are requesting the "jaws"

And even more backup crews.

Firefighters are also on the way--

Hearts racing, a touch of fear.

"Jaws of life, what's your ETA?"

Less than a minute, now they're here.

The police were first on the scene

Controlling and directing traffic

And updating the rest of the team

(Although the sight makes them sick.)

The scene is a wicked nightmare,

Broken glass and plastic litter the ground.

There's twisted metal everywhere

And the odor of ETOH all around.

The images are horrifying, grotesque

Lit by red and blue flashing lights.

Worse than anyone had guessed--

It will haunt them of many nights.

One young man, on his way home,

Didn't see the stop sign.

The mini van he T-boned

Couldn't move in time.

20 years old-too young to drink

He'd said he was sober-- it was a lie.

he left the party, his friends didn't think

That he'd be DUI.

Crushed and slumped against the wheel

Was the driver of the van.

Dead of injuries he didn't feel,

An innocent family man.

Crumpled against the passenger door

Lay his broken and battered wife,

Her cries faded and were no more

As she passed out of this life.

A scream echoes on the icy breeze

From out of a shallow grave

Despite the efforts of the EMT's

It will be a third life they cannot save.

Curled up in a heap

The child is discovered in the wreck.

He may have only been asleep--

Except for his broken neck.

The young driver staggers form his car,

Bleeding from a cut on his arm.

He watches the scene from afar

As he's suffered no major harm.

An officer sees him standing there

And gives him a breathalyzer test.

Ignoring the boy's glassy stare

Says; "Son your under arrest."

When hopes of survivors were almost gone

And it seemed pointless to try

They heard a sound that drove them on--

A weak and scared child's cry

She looked like a porcelain doll

With pale hair and a button nose.

Skin so white, body not hurt at all--

Like a lonely white rose.

They pulled her free and began care

Of this child of barely three.

Fortunately, she was unaware

That she'd lost her family.

Hours later, the street is clean--

All traces of tragedy gone.

Rescuers slowly depart the scene

But memories don't fade with dawn.

The boy is taken to jail,

Where he beats his fist against the tile.

His mother cannot afford his bail,

And so he'll remain until his trial.

His mother, with eyes downcast,

Had tried to leave but he'd caught her.

"What's wrong? What is it?" he'd asked.

She cried and said "Vehicular Manslaughter."

For 17 years, the man had cried

Consumed with guilt and sorrow.

At times, he wished he had died

So he wouldn't face another tomorrow.

At last, he was being released

From years and years of Hell.

The pain of the accident never ceased

And never would, he could tell.

As soon as he was out, he found the graves

Of the people he had killed.

Their deaths haunted all his days

And left a void that couldn't be filled.

He is laying flowers on the ground

Next to each headstone.

He hears a voice and spins around

And discovers he's not alone.

Behind him is the one he didn't kill.

He shares the anguish she knows.

Drawn her against his will,

He gives her One White Rose.

Author Unknown

EMT Prayer

LORD,

Grant me the wisdom so that I may treat

those of your children that lay at my feet.

Let my hands be gentle, sure and swift

to impart to them your sacred gift.

Let me see only a patient's need

not their color, race or creed.

Help me always to be my best

even when it's on my hours rest.

Grant me the insight to understand why

patients of mine are going to die.

Let me remember that when they do

there is a wonderful life in Heaven with You.

Lord, if in the time of duty I should fall

help my family to hold their heads tall.

For it was You who decided that I should be

one of your chosen few, an EMT.

-Author Unknown- [/align:09f922bcb7]

P.S. I was not sure where to put this post feel free to move it if you need to

Those are magniifcent Poems and Prayers. Did you write them yourself?

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Please God, I’m only 17

The day I died was an ordinary school day. How I wish I had taken the bus! But I was too cool for the bus. I remembered how I wheedled the car out of Mom. “Special favor,” I pleaded, “all the kids drive.”

When the 2:50 bell rang, I threw all my books in the locker. I was free until 8:40 tomorrow morning! I ran to the parking lot, excited at the thought of driving a car and being my own boss. FREE!

It doesn’t matter how the accident happened. I was goofing off -- going too fast. Taking crazy chances. But I was enjoying my freedom and having fun. The last thing I remember was passing an old lady who seemed to be going awfully slow. I heard the deafening crash and felt a terrific jolt. Glass and steel flew everywhere. My whole body seemed to be turning inside out. I heard myself scream.

Suddenly, I awakened; it was very quiet. A police officer was standing over me. Then I saw a doctor. My body was mangled; I was saturated with blood. Pieces of jagged glass were sticking out all over. Strange that I couldn’t feel anything.

Hey, don’t pull that sheet over my head. I can’t be dead. I’m only 17; I’ve got a date tonight. I am supposed to grow up and have a wonderful life. I haven’t lived yet. I can’t be dead.

Later I was placed in a drawer. My parents had to identify me. Why did they have to see me like this? Why did I have to look at Mom’s face when she faced the most terrible ordeal of her life? Dad suddenly looked like an old man. He told the man in charge, "Yes, he is my son."

The funeral was a weird experience. I saw all my relatives and friends walk toward the casket. They passed by, one by one, and looked at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. Some of my buddies were crying. A few of the girls touched my hand and sobbed as they walked away.

Please...somebody...wake me up! Get me out of here. I can’t bear to see my Mom and Dad so broken up. My grandparents are so racked with grief they can barely walk. My brother and sisters are like zombies. They move like robots. In a daze, everybody! No one can believe this. I can’t believe it either.

Please don’t bury me! I’m not dead! I have a lot of living to do! I want to laugh and run again; I want too sing and dance. Please don’t put me in the ground. I promise if you give me just one more chance, God, I’ll be the most careful driver in the whole world. All I want is one more chance.

Please God, I’m only seventeen.

This letter originally appeared in a column by Ann Landers

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I fucking HATE Ann Landers.

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But she says the nicest things about you!

(I was waiting for that shoe to drop.)

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I don't care for her much either, Asys. Why the vehemence from your end?

Here's the only prayer I've ever used...

"God be with us, keep us safe,

Help us to do our duty,

And to help those who need us most.

In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen."

It gets modified to "you" instead of "us" when I see someone go by and I'm not on duty.

Wendy

CO EMT-B

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For whatever it may be worth, I have had letters published in both Ann Landers and Dear Abbey.

Also, JEMS, Popular Science, Long Island Newsday, Popular Communications, and won a captioning the cartoon contest, in, of all places, the NAEMT Newsletter.

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This is the only prayer I use when things get hairy:

Jesus Christ, Slow Down!!!!

Yelled at my driver

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I only have one EMS prayer:

Please God, let the tones not sound while I'm trying to catch a few hours of shuteye. Amen.

Oh, and please stop my partner from eating that gigantic burrito as the olfactory insult for the next 24hrs may be too much to bear. :)

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I've said many, many prayers and even written down a few. But they get lost or accidently thrown away or something.

I've never had a prayer published, but I've had a couple of articles published for the Fellowship of Christian Firefighters. I wish I could sit down and write more often.

BTW: These were good.

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I wrote this with "unknown", a firefighter poem in mind.

Brother when you weep for me

Remember it was meant to be

Lay me down and when you leave

Remember I'll be at your sleeve.

In summers heat or winter snow

I'll be on every call you go.

In the back, compressing, 1,2,3,

You'll save a life and think of me

In neighborhoods where bullets fly,

At fire's where young victims cry

Where cars collide and dreams are crushed

I'll be there with you in a rush.

The unit which I now ride on

Is fully staffed with medics gone.

Those who died in MVA's

And those who died in other ways.

As Paramedics we see first hand

The death that plagues our fellow man.

We try to put it out of mind

But it's impossible we all will find.

Our memories we do ignore

As we approach our patients door.

For we know we are the only prayer

For the lovely life who needs us there.

So remember as you wipe your tears

The lives to which I added years

For they're what made my life worth living

I pray you'll always keep on giving.

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Man..that's beautiful sentiment. I feel bad now, as I was only coming in here to trash another hero poem... :-)

Pretty cool man..thanks for posting.

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You dont have to hate her isnt she dead

Sent from my SPH-D710 using Tapatalk 2

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Thanks for reading!

- Jeremy Rosenau

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I WISH YOU KNEW WHAT IT’S LIKE….

I wish you knew what it’s like to give the ultimate sacrifice.

To risk life and limb for strangers who care not for your life or their own.

To risk contraction of disease and illness that could rob precious time with my family.

I wish you knew what it’s like to be solely responsible for someone’s life,

Even when you’ve not slept in two days,

Or to know that a bad day or a mistake

Could leave a child without a parent.

I wish you knew what it’s like to see the horror on a mother’s face

Who’s just seen her dead child’s mangled body,

Or to look in the face of a father who will never hold his children again,

And to know that the children don’t yet understand

That their father will never take them to the park,

Toss them in the air or see their first school play.

I wish you knew what it’s like to look into the face of an old lady

Whose husband of 50-plus years has just passed away,

Leaving her alone and scared,

Or to have to explain to her that there is nothing that can be done.

I wish you knew what it’s like to be obligated to save the life of the drunk

Who just crossed the median and struck a car head on,

Killing a family of five,

Or to have him tell you that he doesn’t care.

I wish you knew what it’s like to feel the emotion

As you attempt to save the battered infant from the certain death

Her abusive father had destined her for,

Or to know that if you display your human emotion,

Your job will be on the line.

I wish you knew what it’s like to contain these emotions for the sake of the family,

Or to look into the eyes of your child and weep inside

For fear of losing them to a freak accident or a drunk.

I wish you knew what it’s like to wish it would all go away,

But it doesn’t.

I wish you knew….but only for a second.

Because I don’t want you to know what I know.

Stephen Paine, MICP Author

I WANT TO TELL YOU LIES

I want to tell that little boy his Mom will be just fine.

I want to tell that dad we got his daughter out in time.

I want to tell that wife her husband will be home tonight.

I don’t want to tell them like it is….I want to tell them lies.

You didn’t put their seat belts on, you feel like you killed your kids

I want to say you didn’t….but in a way, you did.

You pound your fists into my chest, you’re hurting so inside

I want to say you’ll be okay….I want to tell you lies.

I can see you’re crying as your life goes up in smoke.

If you’d maintained that smoke alarm, your children may have woke.

Don’t grab my arm and ask if your family is alive.

Don’t make me tell you they’re all dead….I want to tell you lies.

I want to say she’ll be okay, you didn’t take her life

I hear you say you love her and you’d never hurt your wife.

You thought you didn’t drink too much, you thought that you could drive

I don’t want to say how wrong you were….I want to tell you lies.

You only left her for a moment, it happens all the time.

How could she have fallen when you thought she couldn’t climb.

I want to say her neck’s not broke, that she will be just fine.

I don’t want to say she’s paralyzed….I want to tell you lies.

I want to tell this teen his buddies didn’t die in vain

Because he thought it would be cool to try and beat the train.

I don’t want to tell him this will haunt him all his life

I want to say he’ll forget….I want to tell him lies.

You left the cabinet open and your daughter found the gun.

Now you want me to undo the damage that’s been done.

You tell me she’s your only child, you say she’s only five.

I don’t want to say she won’t see six….I want to tell you lies.

But I have to tell it like it is, until my shift is through

And then the real lies begin, when I come home to you.

You ask me how my day was, and I say it was fine

I hope you understand, sometimes….I have to tell you lies

Author unknown

Edited by scratrat
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Man, I like the 'lies' poem too....pretty cool guys....

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I don't remember where I got that one from Dwayne. But my mother does stained glass, so she made a nice frame for it and I printed it on nice paper. It looks sharp. I'm not a poem person, but that one I really liked.

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You know what I like is that it shows how a provider can be heart broken yet angry at the same time, for the same person in a single situation.

I've found this often. I need to care for you if I'm going to treat you properly, though you brought this one yourself, yet being unwell in some way caused you to do that, and I'm tasked, and priveledge to take care of the unwell in any form...

The emotional puzzle can get confusing enough that it's allowed (forced ?) me to say, 'Fuck it...I'm just going to love and care for everyone and trust karma to sort out the rest..." I know it's not everyone's way, but it seems to work for me, and that seems to be the energy that the poem is written in...(to my way of reading it)

Thanks for posting it! How did we get even this far in this thread without someone posting the "You've done your time in hell" bullshit? Pretty cool....

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Sorry ...

Sorry if we woke you in the middle of the night,

But someone in your neighborhood is fighting for their life.

Sorry if we block the road and make you turn around,

But there's been a bad wreck with dying children on the ground.

When you see us coming I hope you'll understand,

Let us have the right of way someone needs our helping hand.

Sometimes a child is choking; sometimes a broken leg,

Sometimes a heart stops beating and when we get there it's too late.

So if you see us crying when we think we are alone,

You'll know we had a bad one and we're feeling mighty down.

We don't do it for the money you know we don't get paid,

We don't do it for the glory but for life that might be saved.

Somewhere deep within us our souls are crying out,

We're here to help our neighbours in their hour of pain and doubt.

God gave us something special to help us see you through,

We do it because we love you and we care about you too.

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Thanks for posting it! How did we get even this far in this thread without someone posting the "You've done your time in hell" bullshit? Pretty cool....

lol...magic...sheer magic

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