Fires

I have heard the expression,

"There is a method to my madness," 

but it does not apply to me. 

I claim that my insanity was my birth right; 

in my past lives I earned to plead it for this one

I don't pretend to be "all there,"

nor do I refuse to acknowledge 

that I, with my small frame 

and large presence, spark fires. 

I spark fires with everything I do 

and every place I go. 

Warming fires, signal fires, friendly fires,

and fatal fires. 

I have been told that everything I touch burns,

and I can only hope this is true. 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741