Burn

My memories,

In pain, in tragic

In hope, in light

All down with pencil and paper.

With it in my hand,

A fire to start within my eyes,

The paper in my hand,

I read it again,

 And into the flames.

I watched it disappear,

In hope to forget

And start anew,

Not knowing

It's soul still lingering near.

This poem is about: 
Me

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