Kites

In the fields
the boys fly their kites
in the land of green and flood.
In the days,
when the rains have ceased,
white friendly clouds
line the edges of cerulean sky
and the breeze takes the kites
higher and higher.
Though it looks peaceful:
the multi-hued kites dotting the immense sky;
each kite battles with the other
to keep flying.
The strings of the kites are
coated with glass shards,
so that they can cut.
In front of you, I feel like
that boy holding the kite-string in bare hands,
beholden to the thrill of the kite taking flight,
not noticing the blood dripping from his hands
and pooling in a puddle near his feet
from the cut of the glass shard laden string.