• Image of youth in reddened white,
    Careens through the air in time with colored sparks,
    Perched upon a wise father’s knee,
    Proudly waves along with an exploding world,

    ‘What are you celebrating, child,’
    A thoughtful father inquires in somber tones,
    ‘America,’ is returned in glee,
    ‘Why’ will always remain the simplest of questions,

    ‘Because, sweet mother told me,
    That America is very strong and always good,
    So, I should always remain proud,
    To live in such a wonderful land and my home,’

    ‘Well,’ falls softly from tired lips,
    From an old man who recalls memories of past,
    ‘I suppose that your mother is right,
    But did she tell any other stories, of this, to you?’

    ‘Of men who trip and fall to ground,
    And never again rise from the stupor of bloodshed,
    Of weaponry discharged toward men,
    Innocent beings and their old neighbors all alike,

    ‘Of crazed beasts wearing the skins,
    Partaking in evil and things men should never do,
    Fighting hand against tooth, or nail,
    Hoping to survive the horror and bitter insignificance?’

    A sparkler fades on the dying grass,
    As a child flees in fright toward the safety of home,
    Into the warmth of a kind mother’s arms,
    Basking in the comfort taking from the naïve ignorance,

    ‘Why would you say such a thing,’
    Protection radiates from the lined mother’s face,
    ‘Didn’t you know that it frightened her so?’
    One child gazes somberly from the swinging night doors,

    ‘Well, I suppose that such a thing would,’
    An old man has thoughtful eyes even in the darkest hour,
    ‘If that’s so, I should tell you now,
    That my darling, you frightened me too.’