feelings, are like fire
my rusty stove holds these embers
burning low, unwilling to go out
friends, keep me going
people, I can trust
many, don’t understand me
and I don’t understand them
It’s difficult to be content
without a fire
I want to see it burning brighter
I want a forest fire
Sometimes, I want to burn my cabin down
but despite my ambition, or unstable nature, in a forest of steel and city lights
I feel, the best moments are when my fire keeps burning
and I can be warm, to someone else.
Most of what we do, is to get back to our fire
fools, venture into the cold
for too long.
I am a fool, testing the winter
because the wind whispers my name
I can’t blame
Nobody can tell me, I should be warm, caring, and compassionate
feelings, are not a command
ice, shouldn’t be shamed, for being cold
but we are all responsible for our fire—
to not need respect, or the approval of men, is to be without humanity
cold, to the core.
We have to be honest with ourselves
Sometimes, we have to carry our fire in a lantern
to guide us out of the storm
I don’t like to move, because of the cold
I prefer to wait-out the weather
to hold-up, against the chill
with books, and tea, to warm me.
Part of this blizzard, I brought on myself
I am not one to seek experience, just to say, “I have experience.”
It must have meaning, like the woods, where I make my home.
I am not done suffering, but it must count
At the end of my life, what will matter?
and been friendly,
but there wasn’t a friend there.
Warmth, is a blessing from God
and what we do, should warm us
It should be
and the cold
and the thunderous applause