Inside the inside ring of fire
outside the torch bearing running shoes
amidst the flames of glory the fanned
fainting fans
and the heart pumping jumps
there's a darker side to the game:
When you look at the stance of nations
with their colorful leotards and spinning gymnasts
there's this nationalism
which can get so dark
there's no color
it can get as dark as the shadow in rubble
as the night falls
and a child half alive
keeps thinking of the bombs
and remembering the home
hoping someone will come
is she the hero?
Or is the gold medal holder
on the podium among the cheers
what we prefer to think of?
Oh, nationalism on display.