deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Moment Bittersweet
Withering, dying, going,
we lose our fire.
To grant another's wish,
we lose our light.
For another's passing fancy,
we flicker and fall
into rising smoke.
We are but candles
on a birthday cake.
we lose our fire.
To grant another's wish,
we lose our light.
For another's passing fancy,
we flicker and fall
into rising smoke.
We are but candles
on a birthday cake.
Published 24th Feb 2019
Author's Note
Without the last two lines, this might almost be a riddle. I wrote it so long ago that I can't remember if I intended it as a riddle or not.
In any case, here's another early work of mine.
In any case, here's another early work of mine.
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