Arsonist Poem by Chris Haifley

First it's the smell of the damp ground,
Of the woods and the brush,
And the waning light.
Fright sparks, a flame in the foliage,
Raging as bright as the peacefully painful sky.

Try to hurt me now.
Try to bring to to the ground,
Try to make me look at you!
Try to touch me.
And you'll burn with me,
Burn in the fire and the fear you incited,
Deep within me, where no one has gone before.

Look at your title, look at what you are now.
Bet you never thought you'd be an Arsonist as well.