The Flame
By Anthony Edwards
Somewhere down inside the very depths of me
Is a tiny little flame so dim it’s difficult to see
It wiggles in a gentle glow of yellow and of blue
And quietly waits in silence for a chance to shine on through
Sometimes when I get angry I can feel my neck get hot
And it feels like I am burning, though it’s evident I’m not
Rant and rage only serve to fan the flames ever higher
Prime and elemental, is my nature, is my fire
Sometimes when I am busier than perhaps I should allow
Moisture cools my upper lip and sweat falls from my brow
I worry about nothing, which feeds my friend the flame
Who dances on my stomach like I’m the one to blame
Sometimes when I am happy, it’s more than just a glow
It warms me from the inside out and somehow seems to know
How to spark imagination, and just how to inspire
It really is the soul of me, my blue and yellow fire
One day when I am weary, and it’s time for me to go
And my wick has but a minute left to flicker to and fro
Though my heart may rest in silence and the breath in me is gone
My tiny little flame, eternally, lives on
