Little boy on the verge of manhood.
Anger and frustration.
Filled with animosity.
Thinks he know the true world;
Believes the lies and propaganda.
Never experienced real life.
Small town boy raging against a big nation.
Words spoken in a vacuum
Falling flat on the floor
Finding no air to waft
To listening ears.
Lashing out at fire, hitting nothing,
Feeding the fire in his mind.
Smoke rolls out as he speaks
And vanishes into the night.
Little boy coming into his own
Trying to find his way.
Needs a light in the night to guide him.
Fireflies sparkle and fade away.
The only light, the fire in his soul,
Fueled by half-truths and speculation.
Copyright © Betty Gail Wood-Rush