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Rated: E · Poetry · Opinion · #2090976
The heat of fireworks and unrest continues.
Among the nighttime velvet black,
exploding in July,
I see twelve blazing eyes of light
expand within the summer sky.

They flash and flare with red and gold
and white that look like rain.
And as I see these eyes I think
of those who died for freedom’s gain.

There is a cluster to the right—
these eyes do dominate.
Perhaps they represent all those
who died to conquer greed and hate.

And right above, another eye
abides that’s not as wide.
Maybe it’s there to indicate
the gift of love that people hide.

Right near the bottom is an eye
that gravity endears.
A weeping stream of airburst spray—
perhaps it represents our tears.

Some eyes that are not quite complete
abide with silver core.
Yet like life’s evanescent pace
they sparkle as they pour.

Those little eyes of fire thus
offset a wide-eyed glare.
To see oppression’s Waterloo,
a vision which we all can share.

Despite the cool of fireworks
declaring all that’s right,
I know that due to deep unrest,
it’s hot in the city tonight.

32 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
© Copyright 2016 Jatog the Green (webroot at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2090976