Under the Ramparts

Sometimes I don't want to fight at all
instead I want to take red white and blue streamers
and then wrap myself up like a mummy
Then I'll sit down and listen Louis Armstrong,
he's wrapped up too.
We both smile and then pretend that the world is doing it with us
Too bad we're alone and nobody knows we're happy
Fireworks appear each time he sets off another note

And yet people would still scoff
They'll point out we don't have any clothes on
Fine
We'll take our medley somewhere else
All the irony in the world won't deny us this performance
All the sarcasm in this poem won't deny me my happiness