Fireworks Poem by Mary Green

Fireworks



Look at the firework,
then look at me.
Smouldering burnt flesh, and
a smell like death.
See the bright pink petticoat,
wrapped around my thigh.
Burnt to a crisp.
White painted shoes,
dressed with fire.
Where is my brother?
Nowhere,
to be seen.
Mad parents,
Rushing around.
Tears taste of smoke.
I’d tried to hide,
like a ghost.
But,
The rocket saw me, and
trapped me in its spitting fire.
Look at the firework.
And then look at me.
Bright yellow scabs, and
vivid red scars
So,
Look at that firework again,
and then,
think of me.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM

So many innocent people have died in Australia, and this emotional and sympathetic write still doesn't express what the survivals really feel...

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