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Gathered my belongings and I burned them as an offering
to who I might one day become if I could let them go.
I knew this gesture could be seen as one more case of posturing
but I’d grown tired of who I was and all that status quo.
Wind was blowing, killed the flame, so I poured on more gasoline
and never gave a single thought that I, too, might be burned.
In my head it would be like what you’d see on the silver screen
where Karma only bites the ones whose lessons are not learned.
And the flames rose up
And the smoke blew away
Everything I had been
Sitting in a lawn chair with the green grass tickling my feet,
complacently I watched as my possessions turned to ash.
Imagining a better place, a house way up on Easy Street,
Where I could spend my lazy days just twirling my moustache.
Wind was growing, felt the heat so I moved my chair back a bit,
distancing myself from all the things that I’d thrown out.
All out of accelerant , I packed away my arson kit.
Never felt so certain though down deep I still felt doubt.
And the flames all danced
In a weird display
That I would have feared
As the sun was setting all the embers started sputtering
and slowly growing colder in the evening Autumn air.
And I could feel my heart, like a butterfly was fluttering
looking for escape or just an answer to a prayer.
Wind was gently dying down. Packed the car, anticipating
moving on and moving up and reinventing me.
Red and orange, the glowing coals were still so oddly captivating,
so I stayed to witness the end of the mystery.
And the flames all died
Like an old cliché
That I might have said
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