Sparks

The fire roars warmly,friendly,lovingly. 

It lights the face of humankind,the rough,the kind,the genius.

Fire is like a  extension cord.It holds us all together.

Then,a brown blur comes smacking down on  the roar.

The fire explodes into a fireworks display of blue sparks,scorching the faces.

The logs remain,charred and black with just a few sparks left. Charcoal.

The campers try to reignite the flame,and succeed mildly. But it is soon out again.

Ruined. Forever and always burned.

I'll cry tonight.

Author's Note

Deep and Profound!! Lol

Reviews

[The Queen of Pentacles]

Like how the poem goes out just like a fire.
Begining remind me of a fire place,could almost feel the warmth of that fire!
Dame wish I was camping right about now.....
It was good,I think I will show it to my pyromaniac(ha-ha.) brother :)