30 September 2012
It all happens, From a tiny spark, When it starts to climb, The tree bark.
When the leaves are dry, And it gets too hot, And rain? I think not.
This makes all, The animals run, As it is worse, Than a bullet from a gun.
So they sprint away, From their homes, Or they shall become, Ash and bones.
They won't stop, As the consequences are dire, As they would be engulfed, By the wildfire.
It's caused by hot days, Or shards of glass, Or even a match, Held to someone's bottom.
They would die slowly, Not rapidly quick, And the pain would be, Much more than a prick.
So if you think that, Lets make a small pyre, Watch out for, A wildfire.
Wildfire • Opuss № I