Playing With Matches Poem by Glen Martin Fitch

Some poets lead romantic lives,
some not.
Some thrive by talent, friends,
or luck, or taste.
Some seem to represent
what's lewd or chaste
and some stay sober.
Some use booze or pot.
But you crave fun and fame
and want them soon.
Reject the current myth
of risk and pain.
If you,
instead of effort,
think you'll gain by turning
to a needle and a spoon,
then,
like the pit crew fool
with plugs to clean,
who struck a match
to play a deadly game
by handily extinguishing
the flame deep
in a half-filled pail of gasoline,
you just might last
to boast of highs or strife,
but it's more likely
you will blow your life.