Burning Home (To the ones with red on their hands)

Upon the rising of the flaming sun,
glowing and blowing, spinning 'round a hole.
And around this giant ball of pure flame?
A little blue one with a tad of green.

Let us zoom closer to this little ball,
little critters move around and cover all.
They thrive, chitter, think of life as a game.

Now let us move away, into the forrest,
where a lonely man stands straight and tall.
He watched the sun, down on earth, consuming
and burning, and in its path? Nothing.

As the man watches what use to be warmth,
a silver tear falls from his once clear eye.
Do you cry? You may have lit the flame.
 

Ethan

VT

15 years old

More by Ethan

  • By Ethan

    Witnessed beauty

    We're blessed to be able to witness beauty:
    the drops of sunshine flickering off the trees,
    the scent of nature floating in the breeze,
    the songs of birds whistling around me. 

    Not too long ago, I was blessed by the sun –
  • By Ethan

    Lost Waves in the Ocean

    Today I call out,
    from a cloud.
    A sea of voices,
    A sea of choices,
    A sea of loud.

    I hear one of these
    fragile voices,
    a small wave
    on the ocean.
    I hear her scream
    out.
    Out into the wide
    open.
  • By Ethan

    Sinning Still

    Forgive me, for I have sinned.
    For I sat and only watched the
         passing wind.
    For on this day, I only
    lie still, I watch and do nothing
    to change the 
         passing wind.