Just poems that were written by a teenager who does really know what she's doing. Please read. I promise they're not terrible- just unprofessional, and sometimes kind of angsty.
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Bright lights fill up the dark night sky, filling my whole vision; not an inch left dark and blank. I can smell the smoke and gunpowder in the air, and I can feel the force of the explosions reverberating like the bass of a song through my chest.
I can see the light— the many colors of red, blue, and gold, seconds before I hear the loud cacophony of sounds from high in the night sky. The larger ones are louder, and the gold ones sound like crinkling plastic— some of them even whistle as they fly through the air like a rocket.
The whole time I'm there, I stand, staring in awe at what I'm witnessing, along side my little sister, who is in the same state as I.
