the candle

The flicker of yellow presents itself to me,

The dripping of the wax all in harmony.

I hear the echos of the silent actions,

All without a beaming distraction.

The candle passes no ill judgement,

Just sits and melts with a proper faction.

I look upon it in it's greatness,

Wondering what exactly causes such sedateness.

Then without warning, the candle goes out,

Leaving me with serious doubt.

It is then I realize that candle is me,

All but a lost child without a purpose to be.

Where did that innocence go?

All but a proper ignorant flow.

The candle was a baby,

No one could be so savy.

When it went out I grew,

Into a proper adult, a fool.

I judge and wonder what is with people all the time,

I ask myself, "God, why would I spare a dime?"

Instead of being one with no hate in my heart,

I realize, that as an adult, I've grown into that part...

The flicker of yellow presents itself to me,

The dripping of wax all in harmony.

I hear the echos of the silent actions,

All without a beaming distraction.

The candle passes no ill judgement,

Just sits and melts with a proper faction.

I miss being that candle, all lit and kind,

Now all I am is one, with the times. 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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