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CE
Poems
Feb 2018
gunpowder season
fireworks catapulted into the sky with stupid pride
that I'd only ever seen in the eyes
of some narcissist
(he fell down in the same way too)
on the 6th of November
all that's left was shell-shocked
cardboard lining the pavements
no more gunpowder,
he used up all its power on
flashing lights and trickery
not really anything but
a couple seconds of fake thunder
until he dwindled himself to death
when I was a kid I'd always sing "gunpowder season's plot," instead of "gunpowder, treason, and plot," I always thought it sounded better that way.
Written by
CE
19/M/merrily on high
(19/M/merrily on high)
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