Poetry Tuesday – Flame

I often find myself aimlessly thinking

About what life is really about.

The conclusion I reach

Is always the same:

I simply don’t know.

We can continue to sit here,

You and I,

But as the hours pass,

The wick on which the flame burns

Shortens until the flame dies.

In the darkness, you look at me,

But I fail to see you, really see you.

From your tired mouth, these words:

“Life is that flame.”


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One response to “Poetry Tuesday – Flame”

  1. I sometimes wonder how I’d live my life differently if I remembered more often that I am a flame, grass, dust and not a mountain, a fossil or even ancient Rome ruins.

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