The Smoke

The smoke rose endlessly from the pier,
Suffocating the child whilst the held the fire,
He was only five, then why didn’t he,
Sit at home unaware of this?
He knows not what he does,
He knows not what he loses,
He cries because his eyes are sore,
Knows not why the others around weep.
He sees a kite flying in the air,
Wishes he could fly the one at his home,
But he can’t leave the others here,
He’s sad that others cry,
And asks one if he wants a kite too,
The other looks into the sky,
Sees the clouds huddling together,
Soon the rains will come down,
Wash away the fire lighted in front,
Wash away the fire in each one’s soul,
He sees the clouds too, sees a cat in them,
And sees his father’s face in another,
He hasn’t seen him for a while,
And feels he is somewhere around,
He knows not what he burnt,
He knows not what he lost.

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