Lighting up
Lives and Rooms
We burn slowly
Melting wax away
Each time
Creating
That
Perfect ambience
Just simple wicks
Lodged
In temporary housing
Noticed by none,
Always
On standby
To burn at your whim,
Ready to embrace
A quick death
© 2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
We are indeed simple wicks lodged in temporary housing.... unfortunately most of us pretend to not know this truth..