Black Powder

Starting as a celebration,
The first Firework was made.
Bright and flashy colors with faces in awe,
And then the colors fade.

After that in 1353 the first gun is made.
The first gun is put to fame,
People die,
Now we lower our heads in shame.

When it’s 1860 with a cannon made,
Big explosions across the land we live on today,
Families die and all we can do is cry,
Now we have a price to pay.

Later used for man on moon,
A Rocket is launched so high,
Special suits and floating around,
It’s as if you can fly.

What would happen without black powder?
We wouldn’t know the big white ball that sits up in the sky,
But there would be more world peace,
And we all wouldn’t have to cry.

An explosive poem by: C is for cookie