Party Balloons

Blue balloons glint up in the sky,
Making us wonder why,
We’re all here just to die.

Some are meant to lead great legacies,
Impacting the constant world around us.
They claim they make anew,
When all they ever do is repeat.

Much like every child,
Lets go of their fluttering blue and pink balloon,
Causing a grave crying typhoon.

They cry and cry,
An aching pain.
As we cover our ears,
To shut out their roaring tears.

These repeating worlds,
A hateful twirl.
There’s always another war,
Always another open door.

Another empire always follows,
Their old brutal rules,
Of which is cold and hollow.

As any child cries,
Over any simple balloon.
A mistake in the horizon,
Something another guy dies in.

Blue balloons pop and fall,
All their colors frail and feather,
Now their old owners never remember,
What’ll happen in the middle of September.