The truth about fireworks is
That they never really die out.
First they are set off from the ground
Uncertain
But careening through the sky
Then they explode!
Into a million stars
Multiplying the amount in the sky
So they may make up for covering them up
And then they softly drift towards the ground
While the smoke, while it travels
Becomes a part of the air
Intertwined with everything we know.
Until it is part of the world
In the grass when the wind blows
In the trees when the leaves breathe in.
The truth about fireworks is
No matter how magnificent
Or if they were magnificent at all
They never truly die out
And we will always come back for the love of them.














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