Pint of Fire

To be small in a world of giants

Is to be ignored of your affairs

 

While your soul is heated by the flame

Their hair blows in the crisp morning air

 

As the giants tower with their heads held high

You creep through the shadows and set their pants on fire

 

The blaze grows higher from your stare 

And the giants crumble into your lair

 

Smoldering embers emit a soft glow

And the giants, now small, watch in dismay as you grow

 

Small you may be

And giants they may seem

 

But if you can light the Midnight Hour

You'll see that it's your pint of fire

 

That gives you ultimate power

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world

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