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
Poetry Slam:
This poem is about:
My country
Our world