My candle

A wick of a candle inflamed

Trying to stay lit in the rain

As the transparent drops splash

Matches in box left lonely and few


A flame of a candle sitting on the wick dwindles 

As the hot wax drips onto my cold and wet knee


I fight for the flame to stay ignited but the wick repels the flame.

They need each other to survive so together they must remain

The wick and the flame start to except the rain while I try to shelter

The flame going in and out 

I shout please

I light one match after another

But the wicks cold air blows the flame out with a breeze and the flame accepts it

I light another match refueling the flame

Why do I have to state their obvious fate of soulmates?


The rain falls harder and thunder starts to clap

Lightning starts to strike and yet the candle just sits there

I try to protect the flame but am only left with blistering fingertips and a burnt heart


Candle wax melting and decreasing while the wick grows short


And as the thunder claps the flame goes out

Grey smoke floating in the air

I reach into the box but matches left are none


My light is gone

As I sit in the cold and rain

Lightning strikes and yet I am left unafraid 

Thunder still clapping my heart barely left pulsing


The whisper of grey smoke disappears along with me


For that candle gave me everything. 


This poem is about: 
My family


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