The Match

Hey all,

Here is a new poem. I really tried to write a poem where what you read about isn't necessarily what the poem is about. For me, this poem is about the moments in your life where everything is great and you feel great, and how those moments seem so long and end so abruptly. I tried to write small 3 word lines to build the sense of urgency in the poem to highlight the emotions in it. Maybe you will read it and think it's just a poem about a match, but I found a deeper meaning. I have always believed that there are only so many perfect moments in your life, and you have to seize them when they come. There are also times when your overwhelmed, burning the candles at both ends, and sometimes you also have to light the middle of the candle to survive. It's like they say, sometimes its better to burn out than fade away. That's a moment you have to grab ahold of.


The Match


Draw the match.

Strike box's scratch,

Pierce the dark,

Flashing brilliant spark.



Orange and red,

Burn at head.

With wooden shaft,

In finger's graft.



Slowly now burning,

Needing and yearning.

Consuming its all,

Trapped in thrall.



That hottest flare,

Burns without compare.

Finding no deterrance,

This momentous occurance.



Fire grows height,

Fierce and bright,

At flame's peak,

Nothing seems weak.



Yet blazing burn,

Begins down turn.

Something so strong,

Cannot stay long.



The flickers dance,

Dim flame's romance.

Heat once bold,

Now turns cold.



Soft breath blow,

Lessens match's glow.

As smoldering fire,

Begins to expire.



Orange changes blue,

Before times through,

Lasting sulfer scent,

The fire spent.



Spiral smoke left,

The moments theft.

Once so devout,

Now just burnt-out.

End of Line.
Gerrad!