I look out of the reinforced panes of glass,
At the building across the street,
Brick, Bold, and Built to last.
Established and Eternal.
I look out and see the fire escape,
A rusty zig-zag,
A rag-tag rip,
On an otherwise pristine surface,
Which reminds me,
To be grateful for what I have.
For though my building may seem eternal,
In a few fiery seconds,
All might become ash.
And all that would remain,
Would be that rusty zig-zag,