Treasure Island

Dan Hayter


Ignite The Argument


Your breath smells like kerosene
I'm no drama queen
When your stood in my face
In a burning rage
It ain't just hot air your spurting
Spitting spiteful sparks
The tears in my eyes couldn't put you out
In public I attribute the burns to kettles,
Irons
Hiding their true source of heat
But word spreads like wild fire round here
Everyone knows I'm burnt out, ash
I'm no match for you
But you still strike me
The fire in my own eyes
Blew out years ago
Now I cower beneath your flames
And yet for all your fire,
your fatal ferocious flames,
burning searing heat.
I see no light here

Submitted: Thursday, June 27, 2013
Edited: Friday, June 28, 2013
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