Flame
I stand before this roaring fire,
my face turned to the heat.
My daydreams dancing as the flames
with ashes at my feet.
My thoughts are not unlike the flame
Peaking, pointed, wild;
Seeking fuel, my spirit cries
for my internal child.
Outside the winds afury be,
But not so here inside.
The adult in me, becalms the one,
Whose tiny spirit cries.
By CeeCee
© 2008 CeeCee
(All rights reserved)
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