Fire

I used to shine bright,

I was warm and comfortable.

I was hopeful.

I loved myself.

 

But over time I began to falter.

I slowly began to dim,

I began to turn to black.

I lost my warmth, and instead burned.

I wasn't a comfort,

I was being left alone.

I was dangerous.

 

Not a danger to others,

A danger to myself.

When I am rekindles I am loved,

I draw others,

But left alone I become a gentle smolder,

Hardly glowing or warm,

Surrounded by the impending darkness

That will swallow me whole when the time comes.

This poem is about: 
Me

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