The Candle
Madam, I am not a bottled message
Written to the world
But found by you alone
Think of me as a candle constantly
Lit by your steadfast hands
Aglow before your eyes.
I cannot help if being bright
Make some other feet
Choose their path aright.
Hood me with your fears
And the dark
That makes the child to scream in you
Can frighten the mature
But let shall not guide you till
You are grown to understand
Without some air there is no oxygen
And the candle consumes the fire.
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2012
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