Bejewelled Skies

The inky darkness exploded

With more hues than could be counted

As fireworks rent the sky in hues

That sparkled and glittered and died

And still more followed suit

And lit the heavens with lustre

The glow reflected on the upturned faces

Looking up with awe and delight

Their young faces reflecting

Both happiness and envy

For though they made the fireworks

Crafted, packed and boxed them

Inhaling noxious fumes

And ingesting toxic colours

Someone else would burst them

And exhausted, sleep in warm beds

While the young hands that laboured

To gift that joy to the privileged

Would return to their shanties

Cold, sick and dying

And return to that cesspool

To help bedeck the heavens