Your Last Flame. Poem by Phil Ward
Your Last Flame.
Although my home was no bigger than a box,
You always claimed I was your perfect match,
You took me out a few times but nothing came of it,
Then the last time,
You forcibly removed me and struck me on the head,
I was alight with rage,
Why?
Was I just your latest flame?
You used me!
You used me and because of it I burnt myself out,
Now I'm no use to anyone.
Discarded like an old match.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/8/2024 7:04:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
