The first thought was arson…not a candle stick
Nothing left but an empty shell of old hot brick
An early morning blaze destroyed the interior
Many people think the prime motive was ulterior
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I think one function of poetry is to preserve the past in its unique way - to hold and continue the memories. You have created a superb poem accomplishing that.
Can stubbornness repair dreams with revitalizing sutures? liked the way you asked this question...