Mother tells him put it down. “Can do it self,” says child.
Father shouts, but “I’m okay.” Child smiles.
Big brother says drop it, but “I’m just as clever as you.”
Big sister… “You can’t tell me what to do.”
Little boy runs with firework in hand. At least it isn’t lit, and he can’t light it.
Mother says, “Come back right now.” And pride comes before a fall.
At least the fall’s a few safe inches from the fire.
Then rocket flies from little boy’s hand and explosions reach for the sky.
At least he’s alive, and he’s okay.