Dear Fire

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


I scrunch up my face, dimples like ripples fleet across my face.
I frown, my face pulls down like an angry clown.
I shake, like a leaf in a hazardous winter.
But I can not cry, the tears do not come.
I'm not running now,
There's no point.

Dear angry,
Fire bloomed nothingness,

You are teaching me a keen lesson.
What beautiful horror you bring to me,
I, your awed student, shaken in winters storm.


Submitted: October 26, 2020

© Copyright 2020 Flambe. All rights reserved.

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