How To Burn A Candle Life - Poem by Cynnd Rose
I am Tired...
Of The maniac you thrust into me,
and I never let heave
Of No peace in mind
Of Waiting around and watching every shred of myself slip away with you
-I'm dying- (inside) and) out(
Unlike the wick that burns existence
my demise can only be estimated. Not denied.
If I knew when I'd burn my life to melted wax, smeared on the kitchen table, strong willed as a plastic desert pear
If I knew... I would be far more ruthless. take more and care less.
Nobody knows for sure what my last thoughts will seize
Nobody will care
But I know, I know what I think about all the day and every second of night
And it drives me closer to the ends, not the end of the wick. Not the end of my life.
But thee very beginning of it, I've just been told that I've blown out for now
Conserved until my fire is wanted again
hopefully it's never again
Comments about How To Burn A Candle Life by Cynnd Rose
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You