Firefly, you mocked.
Little insect wandering in the dark
after the sky carries
its crackling children back home,
tiny lost thing that canít help
but mimic greatness in the hope
that someone will remember you, too.
I had to read this poem several times before I felt ready to comment, and even now I am afraid of not being able to catch the..the.. Okay, I guess I can't describe it. And I don't think I really have to. This poem speaks for itself.
This poem is as beautiful as a firefly, and as hard to grab hold of.
I don't think you should try to "clear up the message," I don't want anything in this poem changed.
I understand the message, and I think you used good words here, but for some reason it didn't all click for me.
I thought I had it, but after reading it a few times I kind of lost where you were going with it. I eventually got it again (haha), but I think you need to add more to this piece, maybe even just one more line, something that will help clear up the message.
However, you used excellent imagery with the firefly and his quest for power (I could be very off). And the last line is simply amazing, quote-worthy even.
There's potential greatness here, girl, and I suggest you find it.