On the old wooden mantle
Stood a candle, tall and slender
The layers of wax perfectly formed
A slight breeze from the open window
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A door slams shut, out it goes But the wick still glows It just takes a small spark The flame will light up the room Like the moon in the night sky... Fine thought.... thanks
People feel the light but never think about the pain of candle. A perceptive little poem.... appreciated.