Pint of Fire

To be small in a world of giants

Is to be ignored of your affairs


While your soul is heated by the flame

Their hair blows in the crisp morning air


As the giants tower with their heads held high

You creep through the shadows and set their pants on fire


The blaze grows higher from your stare 

And the giants crumble into your lair


Smoldering embers emit a soft glow

And the giants, now small, watch in dismay as you grow


Small you may be

And giants they may seem


But if you can light the Midnight Hour

You'll see that it's your pint of fire


That gives you ultimate power

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world


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