I heard the sirens,
And I knew
That they were all for me.
Should I live to see
My 15 minutes of fame,
So that all the men
All dressed in blue
And driving red
Should quit the flames
And come to revive me?

But little did they know that I had flown
And my spirit hovered up above
To see them working feverishly upon my frame.
And finally, one stabbed an EpiPen
Full of adrenaline deep within the veins of my dead heart,
And wished me back alive with all his strength.

And someone somewhere must've heard his prayers,
And made me wonder what the fuss was all about?
For in an instant I was back,
Like a genie trapped
Once again inside her bottle.
And now the wishes that I grant
Must come from only there.

-jenn