Incandescence Poem by Nancy Ames

Reach up to the sky
and you will be worth more
dead than alive.
Unnatural high,
the ultimate glamour,
none can survive.

Suicide mission,
with drugs in your pocket,
playing a tune.
After ignition,
you soar like a rocket,
over the moon.

The children in schools
are looking at faces,
up on the wall.
Exceptions are rules
and, leaving no traces,
a star can fall.