Poetry

A Roman Candle

Kerouac once wrote that we should burn,

Burn like fabulous Roman candles.

But me, I am already on fire,

And my sparks have the potential to destroy

Anything within my radius.

I am a deep amber, but I do not glow

My light will never be strong enough

To help you see in your darkness.

I am the fire that can only spread and destroy.

Destructive, not constructive.

I can make your skin shimmer under my touch

But you must push me away,

Because eventually the heat will increase,

And I will leave you with only scars.

Kerouac had a vision of life, of soul, of love

But I am his Neal Cassady in this story,

His ‘Moriarty’ On the Road,              

The mad Roman candle who burns,

Burns, burns, burns and then destroys.

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4 thoughts on “A Roman Candle

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