Volunteer Poems

On this page are writings about different volunteers that have been found on the internet.

"Brave Volunteers"

"Volunteers"

"I'll Show you A Volunteer"

"I Wish You Could See"

Brave Volunteers

Scared, Cold, in pain, the dust hasn't settled yet.
Pinned in, crying, my clothes are ripped, red, and wet.
Lights, noise, and confusion, all part of the night.
I'm going to die alone, give up the fight.

Red lights are flashing, mixing with blue.
A face appears at my window, the face is you.
"You're gonna be all right" is the first thing you say.
A reassuring voice, someone wants me to stay.

You could have been home with family, they need you too.
You worked all day at the job, your sleeping hours numbered two.
But you went down the hall, hoping your family is OK.
Now you're here with me and Death, with comforting words to say.

No time for yourself, no thought for your safety.
Later you may think, your decision was hasty.
"Get the Jaws. Watch that gas; Keep the people away.
Get his vitals, hose this down." Some things I hear them say.

You stand in gas, look in my window, show no fear.
I look back at you knowing, your voice is the last I'll ever hear.
I fade away as you hold me, while holding back your tears.
Thank you for being there, you brave volunteer!

Author Unknown

I'LL SHOW YOU A VOLUNTEER

Show me a person who spends endless hours in training without pay,
And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person where a cry for help brings split-second dispatch,
And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person who is devastated when lives are lost or maimed,
And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person who is graciously welcomed as a next-door neighbor,
And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person who takes ridicule more than compliments,
And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person whose car is garaged with the grille facing out,
And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person who sacrifices homelife, TV... even tender moments,
And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person visibly moved at the strains of our National Anthem,
And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person who may be asked to give more than just dedication,
And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person who is asked to give more... and more... and more,
And, I'll show you a volunteer.

--Author Unknown

VOLUNTEERS

Many will be shocked to find,

When the day of judgement nears,
That there's a special place in Heaven,

Set aside for volunteers.

Furnished with big recliners,

Satin couches and footstools,
Where there are no committee chairmen,

No yard sales or rest area coffee to serve,
No library duty or bulletin assembly,

There will be nothing to print or staple,
Not one thing to fold or mail,

Telephone lists will be outlawed.
But a finger snap will bring,

Cool drinks and gourmet dinners
And rare treats fit for a king.

You ask, "Who'll serve these privileged
And work for all they're worth?"
Why, all those who reaped the benefits,
And not once volunteered on Earth.

--Author Unknown

"I Wish You Could See"

I wish you could see the sadness of a business man as his livelihood goes up in flames,

or that family returning home, only to find their house and belongings damaged or lost for good.

I wish you could know what it is like too search a burning bedroom for trapped children,

flames rolling above your head, your palms and knees burning as you crawl,

the floor sagging under your weight as the kitchen below you burns.

I wish you could comprehend a wife's horror at 3a.m. as I check her husband of 40 years for
a pulse and find none. I start CPR anyway, hoping to bring him back, knowing intuitively it is too late.

But wanting his wife and family to know everything possible was done too try too save his life.
I wish you knew the unique smell of burning insulation, the taste of soot-filled mucus,

the feeling of intense heat through your turnout gear, the sound of flames crackling,

the eeriness of being able to see absolutely nothing

in dense smoke-sensations that I've become too familiar with.

I wish you could understand how it feels to go to work in the morning after
having spent most of the night, hot and soaking wet at a multiple alarm fire.
I wish you could read my mind as I respond to a building fire, "Is this a false alarm or a working fire?

How is the building constructed? What hazards await me? Is anyone trapped?"

Or to an EMS call, "What is wrong with the patient? Is it minor or life threatening?

Is the caller really in distress or is he waiting for us with a 2x4 or a gun?"

I wish you could be in the emergency room as a doctor pronounces dead

the beautiful five-year old girl that I have been trying to save during the past 25 minutes,

who will never go on her first date or say the words, "I love you Mommy" again.
I wish you could know the frustration I feel in the cab of the engine or my personal vehicle,

the driver with his foot pressing down hard on the pedal, my arm tugging again and again at the air horn chain,

as you fail to yield the right-of-way at an intersection or in traffic.

When you need us however, your first comment upon our arrival will be

"It took you forever to get here!"
I wish you could know my thoughts as I help extricate a girl of teenage years from the remains of her automobile.

"What if this was my sister, my girlfriend or a friend?

What were her parents reaction going to be when
they opened the door to find a police officer with hat in hand?"
I wish you could know how it feels to walk in the back door and greet my parents and family,

not having the heart to tell them that I nearly did not come back from the last call.
I wish you could feel the hurt as people verbally and sometimes physically,

abuse us or belittle what I do, or as they express their attitudes of
"It will never happen to me."

I wish you could realize the physical, emotional and mental drain or missed meals,

lost sleep and forgone social activities, in addition to all the tragedy my eyes have seen.
I wish you could know the brotherhood and self-satisfaction of helping save a life or preserving someone's property,

or being able to be there in time of crisis, or creating order from total chaos.

I wish you could understand what it feels like to have a little boy tugging at your arm and asking,
"Is Mommy okay?" Not even being able to look in his eyes without tears from
your own and not knowing what to say.

Or to have to hold back a long time friend who watches his buddy having rescue breathing done on him

as they take him away in the ambulance. You know all along he did not have his
seat belt on. A sensation that I have become too familiar with.

Unless you have lived with this kind of life,

you will never truly understand or appreciate who I am, we are,

or what our job really means to us...I wish you could though.

Author unknown