Fireworks And Guns or a Poem For The "Brooklyn Day Mass Shooting" Poem by Sweet Carolina

Fireworks And Guns
Or
a poem for the "Brooklyn Day Mass Shooting"

I have often heard people say,
As they stare teary eyed
Into the news camera lens
I thought I heard fireworks
As if nothing could be worse
To me it just don't make sense
Because when you're from the ghetto like me, you grow up learning the difference.

Fireworks deflagrating showers of gold red and blue into an indigo dark July night sky causes amazement for a while.
Leaving in its glorious departure a trail of laughter and smiles,
Faces gazing high into the heavens,
A sight to behold, a beautiful impression
Heads held back to the crook of the neck with mouths open to the jaw
All you can hear are mumbles of 'ooouuuu' and 'awwwws'
With the occasional short conversations whispered into the ear of another containing familiar phrases like,

'You missed it' and 'We should have come earlier' and 'You bought the bug spray right? '

Fireworks smell like cookouts in the summertime, the sweat from black bodies dancing energized from youthful prime and fresh cut grass on the clothes of the children rolling down the steep hill.
The pungent scent in the air over there where the men have gathered and charcoal-ignited flames overcook everything on the grill,
And everyone acts like they don't care,
Because after all fireworks are as American as guns.

Guns shots leave in their gruesome departure a trail of tears and grief, silence abound while hands cover their faces in disbelief.
Eyes focused upon hallowed ground where a black body lies. As the sounds of approaching ambulance and police lights feel the sky.

With the occasional short conversations yelled to each passerby familiar phrases like,

'Where is...? ' and 'Are you alright? ' and the deafening silence of fear.

Guns smell like matches being carelessly lit over and over in the hands of an immature child inhabiting the body of an adult; that can't handle the day of their day. As all the other adults look the other way. Silently with nothing to say.
And everyone tries to act like they don't care,
Because after all Guns are as American as fireworks.

"I thought it was fireworks",

I have often heard people say,
As they stare teary eyed
Into the news camera lens
As if nothing could be worse
To me it just don't make sense
Because when you're from the ghetto like me, you grow up learning the difference.