Flickering flames dancing lightly,
People below watching delightedly.
As they shoot up screaming their last goodbyes,
They hear the bellowing sounds of distant cries.
Some pop and like to fizz,
Whilst others prefer to whizz.
People below begin to cheer,
And blast up as you would fear.
It’s almost over so people must go
But I’m glad to to tell you it isn’t the last you’ll know