45 Seconds
Our Life
At night time,
we light the sparkler,
and it goes,
spitting about in
a flustered
blur of defiant fury,
but forever restrained
by its powers
predetermined
by forces greater than it,
like us,
living our out our lives
stuck in our ways
because we weren’t built to last
really any longer
than the sparkler
that we light
at night.
This poem was inspired by a prompt by Kayleigh Thorpe, as tagged to me by James (HVR). I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to include the smell of the smoke, but I didn’t want to force the words if they didn't flow.
Before you go, here’s a question for you to ponder:
If our destiny is death and darkness, would making the attempt at outrunning it only shorten our lives? If not in measurements of time, then in meaning?
Come Find me on your other socials!
Where else do you want me?
Soundgarden - 4th of July
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I've never compared my life to the sparkler's life but they are similar. I do light up at night. Haha. And the poem is so true. We really are not here that long. We come along and light up and then we are gone. Brilliant stuff, Eliseo.
An excellent response to the prompt. I like the direction in which you went with it.