False Alert

That shriek ripped through the building, a sudden tear

in the morning, just as coffee brewed.

My stomach lurched with a quick, cold fear,

as neighbors' doors slammed, muffled, rude.

Grabbed my keys, half-dressed, out to the hall,

that metallic scream still vibrating in my bones.

Then the intercom, tinny, heard by all,

'This is a drill,' in practiced tones.

The tremor stayed, a buzzing in my hand,

long after the all-clear, the quiet returns.

That jolt of fear, you understand,

still hums, a lesson no one learns.