Fire
I used to shine bright,
I was warm and comfortable.
I was hopeful.
I loved myself.
But over time I began to falter.
I slowly began to dim,
I began to turn to black.
I lost my warmth, and instead burned.
I wasn't a comfort,
I was being left alone.
I was dangerous.
Not a danger to others,
A danger to myself.
When I am rekindles I am loved,
I draw others,
But left alone I become a gentle smolder,
Hardly glowing or warm,
Surrounded by the impending darkness
That will swallow me whole when the time comes.
This poem is about:
Me