Boston Massacre

Pure white blankets the city

Egg shells waiting to be walked on

Red coats the street with muzzles to silence anyone who dare to crack

Words and glances colder than the breath that escapes


Overstretched rubber bands ready to snap


A fist flies

A bell rings

Icy stares and bands shatter into fire


Did anyone say fire?


Red coats shoulder to shoulder

Now red coats heads and broken egg shelled streets

No more pure

No more silence

No one said fire


But eyes of fire melt fear into hatred

A war about to begin

Sparked by the flint rocked fists and forked tongues

These streets marked with the crimson of red coats

Let them be no more

Like the commanded fire that was never spoken


This poem is about: 
My country
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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