Like the wood against the fire,
I crash and burn through day and night.
Slowly and surely i start to fade away,
My light goes out and it turns cold.
When i burn i let out sparks,
I get to be the person i am.
The person that i am when i am burning,
When i feel alive.
Just like always the sparks burn out,
And i crash and crumble into a million peices.
But once you burn it's hard to repair,
What has been left broken and turned to ash.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Collection : Volume 1
PoetryI have decided to put my poems into one place so that it is much easier to find and read. These poems can vary between sad, happy to death and being alive. They can relate to life problems such as depression and health issues but they can also rela...
