deepundergroundpoetry.com
Buying Fireworks
Hand prints briefly fog the glass,
as the child peers in and points,
ready to tantrum his demands.
It used to be easy
getting what was given.
I can see them on the window sill
wrapped in brown paper,
Standard dark blue,
not to be opened.
I did my best
not to explode.
As the hand prints fade
dad digs deeper,
the boy turns to comics
already thinking of sweets.
When the fifth comes
the event will be organised
trying to get junior
to put his coat on.
I don't blame him
he hasn't collected wood,
fought off raids,
set his hair on fire,
siphoned petrol from a neighbours car
or asked a penny for the guy.
So why, would he care?
as the child peers in and points,
ready to tantrum his demands.
It used to be easy
getting what was given.
I can see them on the window sill
wrapped in brown paper,
Standard dark blue,
not to be opened.
I did my best
not to explode.
As the hand prints fade
dad digs deeper,
the boy turns to comics
already thinking of sweets.
When the fifth comes
the event will be organised
trying to get junior
to put his coat on.
I don't blame him
he hasn't collected wood,
fought off raids,
set his hair on fire,
siphoned petrol from a neighbours car
or asked a penny for the guy.
So why, would he care?
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