Hindsight

I see it if I close my eyes.

Some three years past and by,

A man I barely recognize

Left a small flame here to die.

I found it lit, but little more.

A candle waxing still.

But light enough to find the sore,

The hole it used to fill.

It isn’t mine and yet I know

Without it, I can’t see.

What would he say if he could speak?

Would he pass this fire to me?

This light was once a part of me, a lost and phantom limb.

This time I won’t just let it go. I can’t end up like him.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s