Fireworks
silver is to dust
as love is to obstacles
written is to rust
as roaming comes to us
plausible and perceived,
as likely as me,
a room full of people
and an idea perceiving
cut 'er a stir and role in the dust!
there's a mighty shy snack waiting for us!
like tops on a tickle
whose minions are so fickle
that the roof caves in
as the concave plays in
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