I watch the dying of the flame as the embers race to escape it. I watch as it dies out, all that was once lit.
The heat slowly fading, the cold now creeps in.
I wonder if the fire misses the ember like a long lost friend?The sad poet.
The dying flame.All sit alone together,
feeling emotions of which,
are the same.🤔
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Weight of Words
PoetryPoetry.. For the broken, misguided, mistreated, abused & sometimes ...in the mood.