Candle
As a child when you told me the wild
Tales of the hatred in the world,
The lust in the male body,
And the lack of concern for each other,
My callow soul did not flicker
To realize that not every candle
Was wrapped with the same type
Of wax—as we age the wick moisturizes,
Burns less brightly, and the wax
Perpetually too hot to hold.
Copyright © Ethan Yang | Year Posted 2012
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