Learn more about other poetry terms
It’s time to watch the fireworks As they fill the sky with light these small controlled explosions That seem to split the night They remind me of my childhood and of patriotic dreams
When I was a child I used to wonder why the veterans in town didn’t like the fireworks on the 4th of July. I thought that’s what they fought for, the freedom to make things go boom.
The questions pop up like fireworks Sparks flying out I cover my face, evading them while fire licks the dark sky I push my hand over my ears I don't want to see, to think It hurts, my head straining
Whispers drift with the salty breeze. Oh, my dear. His tender hand brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. Just, for me, bear it a little longer. Let’s enjoy the fireworks at eight.
So little time, so much change. I look back on myself from the beginning of 2016 The insecure, worrisome, self-conscious girl.
When you kissed me, It wasn't fireworks. Well, The first time it was Of course, Because it was the very first time, And with the very first kiss, There's always fireworks.
feeling the red, white, and blue shadows
A luminous light shoots into the air, As a 'Boom' rips through the sound barrier, An explosion occurs, Beautiful patterns are embedded into the night sky. For a short while.
Raise our bottles to the purple nightWe'll bend these floorboards weighed down with our voices.Shout the doors wide openfling the windows up erupt into the
Fireworks. They're beautiful, aren't they? But, quite tragic, tbh. I mean, Yes, they're stunning. And, everyone gathers to gaze in awe.
Before the fourth of July. I never knew pain so severe. Expecting a few firework shows with enjoyable sound. The bright vivid colors seem to amaze us all and make the little kids go wild. Instead i ended up with the opposite.
The works, Of fire that’s Shot in the sky, glimmers The colors of Your smile.
For the real beauty lays in the postponed blast that shakes the eardrum, not in the false luminescence on a dark sky. Because the sparkles fade a little too quickly, after becoming a spectacular mirage.
How do you know for sure this isn't the last time you are going to hold me tight and let me dance on your feet?
As we lay on the soft, dew-wet grass, staring into the night sky as Colors boom and bang around us, as we sit perfectly still, So perfect, so quiet, yet peaceful. Two young souls lost in the ashes of the fireworks.