Before you start...

 

When you first saw smoke,

you mistook it for fog

while the wind that blew past your face

was already carrying ashes on its shoulders

And when you saw fire 

marching towards you,

they assured you

it was light

and laughed so hard,

the screams that burnt alive 

silently turned to dust in the background.

Now

the birds we once dreamt of being,

hang dead from the wires.

The sky we once leapt towards

is the color of burnt feathers.

It's hard to believe

it can be darker. 

But it will.

Tomorrow,

when they burn the next house

and the one after that,

remember,

they'll try to tell you otherwise,

but remember,

there are only so many

before they come for yours.