David Orioli

Rookie (6/7/89 / Upland, California)

A Candle

Our love was like a candle bright
The closer I got the more it burned
Like a moth I was tricked by your light
The more it hurt evermore I yearned

Extinguished is the fire we had
Our love now hardened and turned to wax
The memories we shared, good and bad
And the flickering light our only tax

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