Light erupts in the sky,
billions of minuscule balls of
power.
Too bright to capture in
ink,
cameras fail to pick
out the
bright white against black.
Do it justice? No.
No lens or
pen
can perfectly
present and represent
the works.
Singing,
as they pop and zing.
Dancing,
as they burst and blink.
Celebrating,
as the country remembers its birthing.
Then, enraptured by
its beauty and its sound.
So loud that
it reverberates around the town,
somehow, it doesn't
scare but gives comfort.
Bystanders stay silent,
eyes stare widened
and breath stays unexhaled.
Hands clutch chests and palms
and bodies are pulled into its
Old Glory.
Boom!
Hear the bombs exploding metal and bone.
Bang!
Hear the bullets piercing heart and flesh.
Screech!
Hear the cry of battle and wounded.
Silence.
Hear the calm before the terror.
Picture
in your mind
the faces of the
past flying their Spangled Banner.
Fire forms eyes and sparkles form frame until
each eruption forms a page of history.
Remember what
they sacrificed for you
as their blood spatters the
nightly sky.
Be
encouraged
by the bravery of the past.
Be
thankful
for the time they gave you now.
Be
hopeful
for the days to come.
Be
ready
for the fight you'll fight.
We'll make sure
your blood spatters the
nightly sky.
If you didn't know, I'm describing fireworks without saying the word "Fireworks," XD.
HAPPYYYYYYYYY FOURTH OF JULYYYYYYYYYY! WHOOP WHOOP!
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